A Special Kind of Hell
by amuseme1
Summary: Written with 5 other very talented writers (Lipton, Melville, Mommanerd, Nosleepin & Spiralled). An alternative ending for Season 6: Giles disappears; the gang must reunite to find and rescue him.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**:  This story is a collaboration by 6 writers (Calla, Lipton, Melville, Mommanerd, Nosleep, and Spiralled) from Yahoo's Buffy message board. (If you'd like to read our individual efforts go to The Baron's Keep of BtVS Fan Fiction, http://www.geocities.com/cardwelj/index.html ) It offers an alternative ending for Season 6: When Giles disappears, the gang must reunite to find and rescue him. If you enjoy reading it half as much as we enjoyed writing it, then we'll have had twice as much fun as you.

**Spoilers**: Through "Normal Again," Season 6

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer:** It's Joss Whedon's universe, we just write in it.

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A Special Kind Of Hell

The outdoor cafe was bustling. It was teatime and people were enjoying some afternoon refreshment. The waiter stopped by a table at one end of the deck and sat a cup of tea and a scone in front of a curvy brunette. Sneering, he placed a large iced Dr. Pepper in front of the blonde. Americans!

"Anya." Halfrek leaned across the table to address her companion. "I brought you here to England to have fun, and so far all you have done is sulk about that man."

"I know Hallie." Anya fingered her straw and took a halfhearted sip of her soft drink. "I'm trying not to think about him, but I really do miss him. Did I mention that he was my very best friend? I thought if we got married we could be best friends forever and make love and eventually make some babies. I really wanted to make babies with him someday." At that, Anya began to cry again.

Anya had been crying pretty much since Xander had left her at their wedding, and Halfrek had heard enough of it. She reached across to grasp Anya by the hand and she spoke to her sternly and directly. "No more weeping Anyanka. It isn't solving anything and he isn't worth your tears. If he had any character at all he would have stood beside you and told your friends and his family that he didn't want to go through with the marriage. Do you think it was right that he left you by yourself to clean up his mess?"

"No." Anya sniffed, swallowed and dried her eyes. "You're right. He isn't worth my time and tears," she paused, "except that I still love him, and I miss him so much."

Halfrek leaned back again to consider her old colleague thoughtfully. "You know Anyanka, we have the whole world for us to play in. Look around at all these people. If you were still a vengeance demon you could sense the pain and suffering all around you. Once upon a time you had the power to do something about that suffering, but now you are consumed with your own misery. What good does that do for mankind or you for that matter? I thought that if you came with me to England, where we had such great times together wreaking vengeance on the deserving, you might want to join me again. I've missed you. None of the others have your sense of fun nor your flair for interesting clothing combinations."

"We did have some great times, didn't we Hallie? Remember when we had that contest to see who could destroy the most lives in one week? I beat you by three."

Halfrek smiled at the memory. "Oh yes, but you had an unfair advantage. There was a power blackout that week and all those people were stuck in elevators together. So many extramarital flings that night! How could I compete with that?"

Anya smiled conspiratorially. "Halfrek, I never told you this, but I caused the blackout."

"No!"

"Yes! It was the wish of a housewife with five children who could never keep her husband home. She wanted him to be fired, so I made a little problem at his electric company that he was blamed for."

Both women broke out in happy laughter. "You see Anyanka? We could have fun like this again. All you have to do is come with me to see D'Hoffryn."

Anya took a deep breath. "You know Hallie, maybe I should..."

"Anya? Is that you?"

She turned, startled to hear the familiar male voice.

"Giles? Hello."

"Well, I must say I am surprised to see you here in England. And you have a friend."

"Oh yes! Giles, this is Halfrek. She is..."

"A vengeance demon." Giles was disapproving. "I've heard of your... friend. Wasn't she responsible for Buffy's extended birthday party?"

"As a matter of fact I was." Halfrek interrupted. "I was simply doing my job and granting a wish for that enchanting child whom everyone was ignoring." She fixed Giles with a withering glare. "I understand that you were a part of her feelings of abandonment."

"If Dawn was feeling... what I mean to say is sometimes we have to make decisions that... that is..." Giles tried to stammer out an explanation.

"Hallie," Anya intervened, "Giles has always been very supportive of both Buffy and Dawn. He is not her missing father, after all."

Halfrek sneered and turned her face away, dismissing Giles. "I suppose not. Well, I need to be going now. I have a pressing engagement." She waved her arms elaborately and disappeared. Curiously, no one at the cafe seemed to notice.

Giles turned his attention back to Anya and sat in Halfrek's now empty seat. "Why are you here Anya?"

"Hallie suggested we come here. We used to have some enjoyable excursions in Europe and she thought a trip might be the thing to cheer me up. I've been experiencing feelings of depression and hopelessness." She smiled and nodded, happy to communicate her inner pain.

"That's perfectly understandable under the circumstances, but do you think spending time with a vengeance demon is in your best interest right now?"

"Oh Giles," Anya's tears threatened to spill over again, "How do I know what's in my best interest right now? I just couldn't stay there anymore while Buffy and Willow and everybody else rubbed my nose in it."

"I sincerely doubt that they would do that to you. When last I spoke with Buffy they were all most concerned with you. They mentioned that the shop was closed and you had disappeared without a trace. There was even some speculation that you might have returned to your, er, origins."

Anya just looked at him guiltily.

"So, I see you've given it some thought."

She nodded, still quiet.

"I would like to discuss this further with you this evening. Are you free?"

"Yes. What did you have in mind?"

"I'm having dinner at my flat tonight. A friend of mine will be there as well. I think it would be beneficial for you to have somebody to talk to who isn't so... so... well, demonic."

While Anya considered this, Giles wrote down directions to his flat and his phone number and handed them to her. "Please come. We will eat at eight. You are welcome to come earlier if you'd like."

"Thank you Giles, and please, don't tell anybody in Sunnydale that you've seen me."

Giles smiled warmly. "I won't. I'll see you tonight."

*****

Anya nervously shifted her weight back and forth from foot to foot and looked at the door and doorbell in front of her. She moved the gift she was holding from her right and to her left and reached tentatively for the small round button. It was no bigger than a dime, really. She pulled her hand back to her side before making contact, then frowned at the bell, almost willing it to ring itself. Drat. This would never do. She straightened her back and took a step in retreat from the imposing barrier, then turned to survey the street in front of the dwelling. There were few cars that had passed, and no neighbors. Not a soul was nearby to witness her ridiculous fit of jitters. "This is just Giles!" she told herself. It was just silly for her to be acting so irrationally.

She sighed, then resolutely turned back to the door, drew up her shoulders, repositioned the small present she had so that the bow she had tied around it faced forward, and determinedly readied her arm to reach out and complete the task at hand. Her index finger extended from her fist and slowly, but inexorably reached toward that dreaded white circle. She firmed her chin and poked it firmly. Inside the house she heard a buzz. She stood patiently and waited. Should she smile? She really wasn't used to formal social visits. How bad could it be? She looked at her watch. 7:16. He had told her to come early, so why wasn't he answering? She had already waited twelve seconds. "Giles, I know you're getting old, but are you already getting hard of hearing?" she muttered, before plastering her dazzling smile back in place and pushing the doorbell once again. This time she wanted to make sure he heard it. She held it in for a count of ten. She liked ten. It was one of her favorite numbers, and she liked numbers. As she stood straight again, beaming her radiance, the door opened revealing a rather exotic looking woman who was definitely not Giles.

"May I help you?" a velvety female voice inquired.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello." Anya greeted her. "I'm here to have dinner with Rupert Giles, and you're not him. I rang the bell but he is ignoring me, which I find irritating." Anya paused, smiled and nodded. 

The woman extended her hand. "You're Anya," she stated.

"Yes. I'm Anya."

"Please come in. I'm Olivia."

Anya entered the front all and glanced quickly around. It was an older flat, but well maintained with a lot of gleaming woodwork and antique furniture.

The two women studied each other for a moment. Finally, Anya realized the woman was familiar. "I've met you before. You were Giles' orgasm friend."

"Pardon me?"

"His friend who came to visit him so he could have sex without Spike. I mean, he sent Spike to my boyfriend's house so we couldn't have sex, but he could. With you." Anya favored her with another bright smile.

"Anya." Giles entered from what Anya assumed was the kitchen. "I see you've met my housemate Olivia. It was very kind of you to test our doorbell. I'm heartened to know it is in fine working condition."

"Giles, you refused to answer the door."

"I can't imagine why." He responded dryly. He motioned to the settee. "Why don't you and Olivia have a seat? You can become better acquainted while I finish getting dinner on the table." He turned to Olivia, "Please yell if you need me for... anything."

"Oh Giles." she stopped him, "Here. I brought you a present. I've learned that it is customary to bring a gift when invited to an engagement as a way of showing appreciation.  Here's yours."

Giles reached over to take the beribboned jar from Anya. "Instant coffee? Well, that's very… thoughtful of you Anya. Thank you."

"It's Taster's Choice."

"I see that."

"I thought you might be out…"

Olivia stepped over to place a light hand on Anya's arm. "Of course Rupert is thrilled with your gift Anya. It was lovely of you to consider him. Why don't we have a seat for a few moments?  We'll be fine, Rupert. Go finish dinner." 

Anya found a place on the paisley settee and Olivia sat beside her, "Now why don't you fill me in on why you've come to England."

"I'm sure you heard that I was getting married to Xander. You met him also. His eyes are rather beady, and his hair never lays quite right, but I loved him."

"Yes." Olivia commented. "Rupert mentioned that the wedding didn't go off as planned."

Anya paused and swallowed, then continued. "After Xander left, and all the guests left, my old boss offered to reinstate me as a vengeance demon."

"Excuse me. Did you just say..."

"Vengeance demon, yes. I was a demon for over a thousand years. I punished men. I lost my job after Giles destroyed my pendant."

"Giles...?"

"Oh, not your Giles, the alternate reality Giles. He was very much like your Giles though. Anyway, after the wedding disaster D'Hoffryn offered to make me a demon again. I told him that I needed some time to think it over. I've had several major life disturbances in the last few years, and I felt that I didn't need to rush into anything just yet. Then my friend Halfrek suggested we get away from Sunnydale. She's trying to convince me to join the ranks again."

Olivia looked concerned. "Are you seriously considering this?" Anya just looked lost. "I have to admit that I am rather tempted. You see I am feeling a large degree of emotional distress and would like to revisit some of this pain back on to Xander and his friends. Especially Willow. She has never liked me and she once tried to steal him from his old girlfriend with her lips."

"Do you think that Xander didn't marry you because of feelings for Willow?"

"Oh no! Willow much prefers to kiss women now, but not me. No, she's kept her lips away from my Xander for the last few years. She's a lesbian."

"I got that." Olivia looked amused, then decided to get back on topic. "Tell me more about why you want to hurt Xander."

"Hurt him? I wouldn't want to hurt him... I just want to bring him pain. Like mine."

"Wouldn't that hurt him?"

Anya's smile left her face, her shoulders slumped, and all the energy seemed to drain from her. "I'm so confused. I don't know what I want. I know that I just don't want to feel like this any more, but nothing makes the pain stop. I cry for hours, but it still hurts. Then I try to smile. My smile is still quite lovely, but the pain remains inside me. It doesn't seem fair that I should be hurting like this when it is all Xander's fault. What am I going to do?"

Olivia took Anya's hand in her own and spoke to her from her heart. "The first thing you need to do is talk this out with Xander and find out why he did this and what he is thinking. Next you have to go on and deal with the pain. Nobody lives this life without pain. You have to accept it and learn from it and grow. Vengeance is not growth. It's quite the opposite, in fact."

Anya smiled gratefully at her new friend. "Thank you." she told her "Giles is very fortunate to have someone so loving and understanding. He could learn a lot from you."

Olivia smiled back. "You're welcome. Speaking of Rupert, he has certainly been in the kitchen for an eternity. I think I'll go check on him."

She rose from the small couch and walked to the back of the flat. Anya took the opportunity to look around the room she was in. It was just a small sitting room. There was a small bookshelf against one wall and some lovely wall sconces. Anya recognized some of the figurines that used to decorate the Magic Box. She was gratified to see that Giles was keeping them in top condition. The resale value on them would be excellent. She glanced at the doorway as Olivia entered the room.

"Something's wrong." Olivia looked shaken.

"What is it?"

"It's Giles. He's gone. I've just looked all through the flat. I... I don't know what's happened, but I can't find him." 

"I'm going to look around. Do you mind?" Without waiting for an answer she wandered up the stairs. From the upper floor, she could see most of the downstairs, including Olivia, sitting on a couch. The flat was filled with knee-high wainscoting, a dark brown wood. Most of the walls were a very light khaki and sand. Flowers spilled off of tables set in the corners.  The stairs led out onto a passageway that was lined with paintings and sketches, children, parks and seascapes mixed incongruously with ill-formed and malicious creatures from a fever-dream. There was a large bedroom, with plenty of room for two. 

The next room was obviously Giles' study. Walls were covered with fading musty books. A few more were topsy-turvy on the small but sturdy desk. A watercolor was framed on the opposite wall, in one of the few clear spots. Anya looked at it closely. It pictured Giles, in his casual best, sitting on a stool in a coffeehouse. Tables filled with rapt listeners filled the foreground. The stage was bare with a rather industrial-looking background. 

The passageway ended in Olivia's studio. Here several canvases were attached to easels. One, a work in progress, showed an old-style baby carriage, leather and steel, crumpled and tilted, in a small dark stone building. The artist had imbued the scene with a ruefulness, a mourning, that affected even Anya. A notepad covered with charcoal was flung on a table, along with neatly sorted tubes of acrylics and oils, brushes and palette knives. Olivia's style tended toward chiaroscuro, intricate blendings of light and darkness. But there was no Giles.

She came back to the sitting room. "He's not anywhere obvious, that's for sure. I guess we have to search the dark, dusty corners -- that's what Buffy always does. Do you have any sewers under here?"

"Giles is not in a dark corner! And there's no way he'd be in a sewer, not when we have a, a guest." 

The front door opened and in walked Giles. He noticed the two women glowering and asked what was going on.

His lady-friend spoke first, her cheeks burgundy with embarrassment. "We didn't know where you were, and I suppose recent events," she inclined her head slightly towards Anya, "have made me a little jumpy. Um, what happened, dear?"

It was Giles' turn to be embarrassed. "I went out the back door to pick some sage, " he indicated the small spice garden in the back yard, "and, um, well, locked myself out. I had to clamber over the wall to get back to the front door." He dusted the knees of his trousers. "Well, dinner should be ready shortly. Shall we gather in the dining room?"

*****

"That was delicious, Giles."  Anya beamed at him.  "Could we have some more sage, please, tomorrow?"  Anxious to keep Anya from her former cohorts, Giles readily agreed.  "I can be here at 10am!" she promised.

"That's fine, but why don't you come at noon, instead?"  Giles caught the grateful smile from Olivia.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was rainy and splotchy. Anya paid off the cab, thanking the heavens that American taxis were prettier than these boxy black behemoths. She checked her watch, and when the all the hands lined up at 12, she rang the bell. Punctuality was a virtue, in business and in manners, and it was good of Giles to make it such a curiously interesting time.

Olivia welcomed her in. "Noon already? I had no idea it was that late." She motioned the girl to the couch. "Rupert's gone again, and this time I searched all over. He's been missing for hours... Did he call you?"

"No, but maybe he was eaten by a giant bunny! I've heard you have herds of them over here and they're dangerous and evil!"

"That is absurd -- I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. Maybe he stepped out -- I'm going to make some calls."

Anya continued to poke about the flat, more for something to do than in serious expectation of finding Giles, while Olivia busied herself with the phone. 

"Mrs. D'arcy? Giles isn't there by any chance? He'd been talking about seeing your collection of... Yes, well, thanks anyway."

"Hall of costumes? Oh, hello Mr. Brown. Have you seen Rupert? I thought he might have popped over... No, no emergency, thank you anyway."

"Mr. Noor? I'm looking for Mr. Giles -- thank you... a new urn? 5th Century -- yes, he will want to know -- I'll tell him directly when I see him."

It was now wearing on towards evening. The two women ate dinner in cold silence, and then Olivia resumed the calls.

"Maybe he went to London -- he does that sometimes... Could you connect me with Reading Room, please? Oh, good evening. Has Rupert Giles been in today? Hmmm? Tallish, maybe 6 foot 1, nice teeth, what... yes, that's him... he hasn't? Thanks anyway."

"Hello, is Professor Whitaker in -- I think he's Germanic Antiquities? Good evening, Professor. Giles mentioned that he wanted to show something to you -- has he come down? No, I'm afraid that if he did tell me, it went in one ear and out the other. He hasn't? Thank you for your time."

The ex-demon was making Olivia nervous.  Each call struck at her normally calm demeanor. "We'll just have to wait. Why don't you go back to your hotel, and if he doesn't show up tonight," she gave a slight sigh, "in the morning, we can try some more places."

"No!" Anya was firm. "Normal people, or even people like Giles, don't just disappear, unless something, something very bad," Olivia's eyes teared up, so Anya amended, "or very good, but very, um, special has happened. We need to call in the experts. Can I use the phone." It wasn't a request.

"Tara! Oh, I'm so glad you're home! But of course you're home -- where would you be?"

"I don't..." 

Anya was oblivious to any offense she might have caused.  "But that's not important. Giles is gone! It seems awfully selfish of him, getting himself missing, when he should be helping me. I know it's black magic, but who would do such a thing? Did you know Olivia was living here? She seems nice, but she's very upsetting. She seems to think I should solve my own problems. Poof! Just like that. I hope I didn't just make another bunny! Oh, Tara, you have to help me, you have to."

"I can't do it on my own, um, I've got to get the, get the, get Buffy and oh, Anya, you know they'll all want to come, they'll all need to come. Giles is, he's, well, he's Giles."

*****

Tara hung up the phone and took a deep breath and a moment to collect her thoughts. It sounded like Giles might be in real trouble, but whom should she call first? Really, there was no question.  She picked up her phone to dial, then paused.  It would be better if she delivered this message in person.

*****

Buffy was on her way down the staircase with a basket full of dirty clothes when she heard the doorbell and opened her door to find Tara standing on her front porch. "Tara!" She smiled, setting the basket aside to embrace her friend with a warm hug. "It's great to see you. I was so afraid I scared you away for good when I tried to kill you in the basement.  I know I've apologized over and over for that, but you've been kind of scarce around here ever since… not that I blame you or anything. I mean, what kind of a friend tries to feed you to a demon, insane or not?"

"N… no Buffy. It's all right r… really." Tara smiled shyly. "I understand w… what you were going through." She paused for a moment, then continued.  "I'm here because something's happened to Giles."

"Giles?" Buffy was immediately alarmed. "Tara, you've got to tell me what's happened to him."

"I really don't know Buffy. I just got a phone call from Anya. Sh…she's in England and she went to see Giles, but she said he's gone."

"What does she mean by gone? Knowing Anya she probably dropped in on him out of the blue and he's on vacation or something."

Tara shook her head emphatically. "No. She had dinner with him and his friend Olivia just last night and he was fine. She went back there for lunch today and nobody has seen him or knows where he is. She sounded pretty upset."

Buffy took a second to ponder this, then firmed up her chin. "I'm calling him. We don't know what Anya is talking about at this point."  She marched to her phone and punched in Giles' number.  Tara heard her questioning someone calmly about when Giles was last seen and where. After a time she asked if Anya were still there, then asked to speak to her.  There were more questions about what had happened the night before.  "We're coming. No, I don't know how, but we will be there by tomorrow.  I'll call you again when we've made the arrangements."  Finally, she hung up.

"Tara, we have to get everyone together. I'll go wake up Willow and Dawn and fill them in. You go to Xander's.  If Anya's involved he needs to know."

"Buffy," Tara interrupted, "what about…?"

Buffy stopped for a minute.  "Spike?"

Tara nodded.

"Let me deal with him later."


	4. Chapter 4

Buffy sat at the kitchen table papers and envelopes strewn about, a calculator and checkbook in front of her. "I've got exactly $32.47 left from my Doublemeat check after I pay all the bills and I've still got to ask for time-off.  Do you think I have any vacation pay coming to me after two months of work?" She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes.

Rummaging through her backpack, Dawn called out the contents,  "I have a stick of gum, my pager, lip gloss, a scantron and $3.00.  Can you pawn a pager?" She looked up hopefully at the others.

"After paying for the reception hall that never got used, the penalty on the plane tickets and the cancellation fees with the travel agency, I've got about 400 bucks," Xander confessed with a sigh. "Definitely not enough to fund our little recon mission." 

Clicking away on her laptop, Willow groaned. "I just checked my bank account and I've only got $76.00.  I could just make it to San Francisco.  Maybe we can stow-away?" She said the last half-kiddingly.

The doorbell rang and Buffy looked around, mentally checking attendance. Tiredly pushing back from the table she volunteered, "I'll get it."  _If that's Spike smoldering under a blanket, I swear I'm just going to leave him there to fry on the front porch._  Opening the door, Tara's warm smile greeted her.

"Tara! It's great to see you! We can use all the help we can get right about now."  Not giving her a chance to respond she pulled Tara into her arms for a hug. "Look everyone!  Tara's here!"  

Xander saw a pained expression flit across Willow's face at the mention of Tara's name and reached across the table to squeeze her arm.  

Buffy marched into the kitchen with Tara, who looked like a breath of spring in her peasant top, long skirt and shy smile.  Tara tentatively waved at the group.  "I just came to see how the scrounge for money was coming and put in my 2 cents.  Or actually my $122.00" 

Suddenly, a noise came from Willow's computer, "Thank you sir! May I have another?" bellowed a masculine voice.

Xander perked up and yelled, "I got it! _Animal House_!" 

"Mmmm.  Gold star for you." Willow looked down at her laptop, "Hey!  I got an e-mail from Anya!"

"Why would she be e-mailing us?" Dawn asked.

Xander, who looked genuinely curious, "Do you think she has news?"

"Hold on, let me open it."  After a moment of clicking, Willow began to read:

Olivia, Giles' girlfriend, or at least I think that's what I understood from her lengthy and convoluted explanation of their relationship--after she enlightened me that 'orgasm friend' is not an appropriate appellation--has lent me the use of her small computer much like Willow's in order for me to communicate with you in a more cost effective manner.

Buffy chimed in, "That's Anya, always with the miserly methodology." 

Willow nodded in agreement and continued, skimming the message in front of her, "Then she berates me for not properly explaining to her about the business potential computers lend to small enterprise… um… here we go:

I realize that it is essential for all of you to come and help search for Giles.  Even though I know I seem thoughtless and insensitive, I recognize that he means more to the assemblage of you than I will be able to comprehend.  Through sensible saving and wise investment choices, I have some money that I'll be willing to advance you in the form of plane tickets.

"Excellent!  And how Scrooge McDuck of her."  Buffy remarked.

Willow interrupted Buffy's positive tone, "Wait, there's a stipulation…"

"Of course.  Anya rarely does things out of the kindness of her demonic heart." Xander said resignedly. 

"She says that we have to agree to work at the Magic Box for 45 days without pay during the rest of the year…. or pay back the cost of our ticket within 1 year, with interest. Then there's columns of figures showing accruement rates and due dates for monthly payments."

Scanning the screen Willow continued, "Ouch this next part is kind of abrasive,  'Except for Xander because he's the reason I left Sunnydale, and I don't even think I really want to see him now, let alone for 45 days, so he has to choose the payment plan'." 

Willow gave Xander a look of sympathy and then continued to read, "Also, with your current problem with magic and all related objects I don't think that you, Willow, should choose to work unless Buffy or Dawn would be willing to be with you, which effect me labor-wise, so you need to choose the payment plan as well'." She looked up indignantly from the screen. "Oh! I think that I've been doing really well!  I mean with Spellcaster's Anonymous, and steely willpower I just received my 75 day pin…"

"Well, at least she made the offer." Tara tried for reasonable middle ground.

"She's got us between a rock and... and something hard and she knows it!"  Xander pounded a fist into his other hand and paced the floor ranting, "She never mentioned any savings or 'wise investments' while we were together. I bet she was planning on separate accounts after we were married too!"

Willow tried for a placating tone, "Xander, it's really not so bad.  I mean, it's not as if any of us could ever afford to scratch up enough to go on our own.  And 45 days, well, that's only 2 months in work days and a year is pretty generous, and…"

"As long as I don't have to help the same customer over and over and over again, I'll do whatever Anya asks." Looking at Xander with determination Buffy said sternly,  "And so will you, Xander.  You are not going to sulk and be mule-headed just because your ex-almost-wife has solved our transportation problem.  I don't mean to be harsh, but Giles' life is more important than your twisty guilt issues."

Xander sank back into the kitchen chair looking grieved.  "I just don't know how to deal.  I feel all torn, loving her, wishing things were different, but angry that she's gone, and kicking myself for what I've done." He put his forehead on the table. "I'm a miserable, miserable man."

The girls watched Xander throughout his outpouring of emotion, quietly absorbing his pain.  Dawn reached for his hand saying, "Well, at least we still like you.  And that's something, isn't it?"

"Sure it is!" Tara piped up, "And what man doesn't dream of having the love and admiration of not one, but four women?"  Her quiet smile punctuated her words as he lifted his head to look at her.

"Yes, otherwise why would we have put up with you for all these years?" Buffy teased.   Looking at each person in turn she took command. "Now, let's get cracking.  Dawn and I are going upstairs to start packing.  Xander and Tara, you should go and do the same.  Willow, can you start looking for cheap flights that leave ASAP?"  After receiving nods from the group, Buffy smiled and then looked fiercely serious, "Let's go find Giles."


	5. Chapter 5

Spike looked at his cards, anted up and glanced to his left.  Clem was staring intently at his cards, notoriously slow to decide whether to hold or fold. Spike's mind wandered back…

Back to when that Witch had slammed open his crypt door and pinned him to the wall with her stare. It didn't matter that Willow wasn't actually using magic, for which he was eternally thankful. He stood there, nearly hypnotized, filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety at the thought that Buffy had finally owned up to their relationship. Quite quickly he concluded _that_ wasn't it. Willow might be a soft touch most of the time, but fiery fierce at the core all of the time. And unlike a tootsie roll pop, he hadn't wanted to know how many licks it took to get to the center.  He pulled at his ear unconsciously, her words of reproach still ringing. God, he hadn't been dressed down like that since Darla. But he'd take Darla's cruel tongue or Xander's boorish digs over her disappointment. One simple task: Make sure Buffy drank the cure. And he'd screwed it up. He shook his head recalling that Willow wasn't nearly as upset about her own brush with death as she was about imagining what a trainwreck Buffy would have been if she had believed the delusions. At that moment Spike realized the guys were staring at him. Play'd gone around and it was back to him. When poker's your livelihood, best not to play when your mind is elsewhere. 

So he folded, cleared out and found himself inside the Doublemeat Palace. While he couldn't see her, he heard her voice clearly through the din.

Inside the manager's office Buffy sat on the edge of the chair, hat in her hands, which suddenly had a desperate feeling, so she set it on the chair next to her. Only to realize her hands were shaking, so she clasped them between her knees.

"I know this is short notice, but I've got a - a family emergency and I need some time off." She bit her tongue to keep from sliding in a reference to the big Doublemeat secret. 

"Actually, it's spring break this week. Peter, Tony and Kristin have been begging me to double up their doublemeat hours. Will a week be enough?"

"I think so. By then we'll either have answers or we never will. Thank you." She looked toward the door, willing the shake out of her voice and asking herself if she wanted fries with that.  Finally she stood. "Well I better finish out my shift."

Spike nearly flew to the house. If anything's hurt her, he thought, he'd... and there was Dawn, just packing a bag but otherwise looking healthy and whole. Thinking better of it, he returned to the alley behind the Doublemeat to get an explanation.

Buffy stepped out the back door.  He was nearby.  She rolled her eyes and kept walking, having no time for either his suggestions or his ultimatums.

"What's wrong with Dawn?" he asked as he stepped out of the shadows into step with her.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, instantly worried about her sister. Slowly she asked, "Where did that come from?"

"Come on, I heard you telling the chief bottle washer 'bout a family emergency." 

"Damn, I need to look the word 'private' up, because I don't remember eavesdropping being a part of the definition." Buffy sped up, momentarily outpacing him as she headed into the cemetery.

"So my hearing's sharper than a dog's. So what? I demand to know what's wrong with the Bit."

Buffy stopped, crossed her arms and stared. "You _demand_?" She continued to stare, narrowing her eyes, attempting to stonewall him. But she couldn't. One of the few things in her world she felt certain about was that he genuinely cared for Dawn and it was wrong to leave him on tenterhooks, even if she so enjoyed these rare moments of his off-balancedness. Sighing, she said, "Honestly Spike, Dawn's fine. While I can understand why you'd jump to that conclusion, it's not her."

"Who then? Not your father?" Realizing as he asked that her eyes were too bright, too shiny. He steered her to a bench saying, "Talk to me." 

There was a long moment of silence, followed by a shuddering breath.  "It's Giles. He's missing."

"He's just across the pond, I wouldn't exactly call that missing."

"Anya called. He's missing."

"I'm sure he'll turn up. Probably lost track of time reading some dusty old book in some dusty old archive and got locked inside."  Spike shrugged, "He'll get out in a day or so."

Buffy bristled. "This is not a joke! Something, something terrible has happened. He needs my help. I have to find him." 

What Buffy left out was that she'd known something was wrong even before the call. She felt her connection with him break. A connection she'd never fully realized they shared. It was like every one of her senses was muffled. No wonder Giles had been so disoriented__by her death and reanimation. 

Spike bolted up. "So you're off to England?!?"

"Say that a little louder Spike, some vamps on the other side of town didn't hear you."

"Oh, that's rich." He said, pacing in front of the bench.

"What's your problem?"

"You!  You and them! _They_ leave you high and dry. Then they snap their fingers and you come running.  Sticking around doesn't get a bloke anywhere. I should leave you in the lurch. Maybe you're tune would change when it comes to me."

In a flash, she was up and in his face, teeth clenched. "This is not about Angel.  Or Riley.  And it's most definitely not about you!  It's _Giles_." She took a couple steps back. "You know, I thought about asking for your help, but that would have been a mistake." Turning on her heels, she wondered why she hadn't left out the front door.

Flatfooted, Spike shouted at her retreating figure, "Well bloody good you didn't because I'd have said no anyway!"

***

The cigarette butt glowed in a red arc to the ground, where it fell amidst a heap of its mates.  A black boot-heel ground it into the dirt, crushing the spark to lifelessness.  "Oh, dammit!"

Spike burst through the door to sounds of anger and frustration coming from upstairs.  "Why can't we just get Tara to put a spell on it?"  Dawn cried.  "Then it will all fit."

Willow's voice floated from her room.  "That's not what magic's for.  One day, you're resizing luggage, and you've taken the first step toward erasing memories.  You... " her voice broke "you have to reserve magic for the big stuff that you can't do otherwise...  Once you cross the line, it's too hard... too hard to go back."

"Buffy!" Spike yelled up the stairs.  She stood at the top of the stairway, glaring down at him.  "What do you want?" she sneered.

"Look, you don't want me to go with you, and I'm ok with that," Spike paused. "I think.  Bloody hell, I am.  But I've got something, the kittens have been very good to me this month, treated me right, and I've got a bit, not much, stashed up.  I thought, I thought you could use it, in England, for food, and such like."

"Spike, I don't..."

"Just take it would you?  If not for yourself, take it for Dawn, and all the little guppies going with you.  Here, I'll just leave it on the table."  He wandered into the kitchen.

"Fine." Buffy went back into her room, grabbed her luggage.  A car horn honked below.  "C'mon," she hollered, "time to go!"

Willow came down the stairs, lugging a suitcase and wearing a backpack.  Dawn struggled behind her, holding three suitcases on top of each other, and attempting to peer over the top.  Buffy sighed, and grabbed the top one in her left hand as she maneuvered two others into her right.  The three women banged and clattered down the stairs and out the door.  Buffy dropped her bags, turned and grabbed the money off the table, and helped loaded the luggage into the waiting taxi.  A clash of doors closing and they were off.

The house was empty, except for Spike who continued to putter in the kitchen. "Don't these people have anything bloody edible!!?"  He couldn't see what was happening in the living room.

Blue lightning flashed up the legs of a small table, turning its legs to rubber.  A black sludge tinged with blood-red highlights flowed from the center over the suddenly bowed legs toward the floor.  The goo hardened and coalesced slowly into a small flat rectangle.  The black faded and was replaced by browns, oranges and a splash of sky-blue.  The legs straightened and turned back to ordinary wood.

Spike stood at the bottom of the stairs.  Up above him, a measly dozen feet away was her room.  He knew what he would find there, her clothes, her smell upon them; and on her bed, her pillow would have the shape of her head, strands of her hair caught in the folds, and the smell, oh God, the smell.  He imagined holding it to his face, drinking it in, drunk on the sensation.  He put his hand on the rail, his foot on the first step.

Then, shaking his head, he blurted "Oh, sod it!" and headed into the living room. He sat on the couch and took off his coat. He looked about for something to do and spotted the table. There was a postcard on it, and he took a closer look. 

Welcome from Historic… 

"Well, innit that curious." He turned it over. 

Got Giles? 

"Oh that's bloody clever. I hate those milk pillocks." 

_By time you read this...___

Spike instinctively looked at his watch 

_he will be gone. And nothing you do can bring him back!___

"Can almost hear the 'Bwahahahahahahaha' there, can't you?" 

He's gone forever 

"This git does go on, doesn't he?" 

_and nothing can stop me now.___

He glanced at the signature. "Bloody hell!" Spike grabbed his coat and almost went through the door instead of out it, such was his speed. 


	6. Chapter 6

Willow looked out the window, absent-mindedly snapping the CD case open and shut.  She heard the captain say that they were at cruising altitude and free to move around the cabin.  She unhooked her seatbelt and pushed herself up, peering over the back of her seat.  The flight was packed.  There was Xander in the rear of the plane, squished in between two strangers.  A few rows up, Buffy and Dawn were deep in conversation. She turned back around and looked for Tara, but couldn't see over the seatbacks.  Plopping back down into the chair, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time that she should be pleased that there were five seats left on this flight instead of lamenting the fact that they couldn't sit together.  

Well, two of the five seats were together. She had held her breath when she floated that fact out to the group, hoping Tara would volunteer to be her on-board buddy.  Dawn had offered to sit alone. However, Tara had suggested that Dawn and Buffy should sit together.  Dawn's jutting chin had announced her outrage at the implication she needed supervision.  But then Tara had leaned in toward Dawn and in a whispery voice explained that it was for Buffy's sake and how Dawn needed to be strong for her.  "Oh." Dawn had said as she straightened up. "Yeah, Buffy and I should sit together."  Willow smiled at the memory.  That gentle touch with everyone was one of the things that had drawn her to Tara.  

But her doubty side couldn't help wondering if Tara hadn't been a little _too_ quick to suggest it.  Maybe she didn't _want _to sit close to her.  So close that their hands might brush; their knees touch.  A smile played around her lips.  Maybe Tara would get sleepy, rest her head on her shoulder, all snuggly.  Willow shook her head clear.  How could she be selfishly pining for Tara when Giles was missing and probably in danger or worse?

"Do you need anything while I'm up?  Pillow?  Blanket?" asked a male voice.

Willow realized that the middle-aged man who had the seat next to her was standing with the overhead compartment open and directing the questions to her.  "Um, can you see a laptop computer bag?  That's mine.  Thanks."  

"You're welcome."  He handed it to her, closed the bin and walked up the aisle.  

Willow set her computer up on the tray table, digging around in a pocket for headphones before popping the CD in.  It was the first mixed disc that Tara had given her. So many firsts.  She planned to let it run in the background while she studied newspaper articles she had downloaded about recent unusual phenomena in the Bath area.  But as the notes started, she just stared out the window. 

[up on the airplane/ nearer my god to thee/ i start making a deal/ inspired by gravity]

[if i did wrong i won't do it again/ cause i can be sweet and good and nice/ and if i had enemies they're friends/ i'll hold to my life with the grip of a vice]

Just then she felt a tap on the shoulder.  The middle man was still gone.  It was the woman from the aisle seat.  She nodded toward the aisle. Tara was standing there.  Willow pulled out her earphones.  

"May I join you?" asked Tara with a hint of a smile.

"Yes! Uh, no.  See, there's this guy sitting here.  Well, not right now - now, but it's his seat."  

Tara listened with a serious look on her face, nodding.  "Actually, he's sitting in 11C right now.   Seems kinda happy with that aisle seat.  So that makes this the only one available."

The grin on Willow's face was so wide her cheeks hurt.  And still she couldn't stop.

"I'll take that as a yes." 

The woman swiveled her knees out into the aisle and Tara maneuvered past, settling into the seat.  She picked up the CD case and smiled at Willow.

"Which song are you listening to?"

Willow swallowed, finding it hard to speak.  "Airplane."

Tara smiled a bit wider.  "Indigo Girls." She reached her hand out to tuck a lock of hair behind Willow's ear.

"Yes," squeaked Willow.  She wanted to ask Tara a hundred questions, starting with how much significance should she read into this seat exchange, but a tiny persistent voice of reason told her less was more.  From a pocket of the laptop bag, she pulled out a splitter and another pair of earphones and offered them to Tara.  As she reached out to accept them, their fingers brushed and Willow felt an electric thrill run through her.

[i never should have read my horoscope/ or the fortune on the bubble strip/ saying what you think won't happen will/ a great thing to read before a trip/ on an airplane]

Buffy knew she should try to get some sleep. There would be little time or inclination to rest once they got to England. But her mind was too full.  Of annoyance with Spike.  Of worry for Giles.  She stared out the airplane window and tried not to think.

"He's probably fine," came the voice from the seat beside her.

Buffy turned to look at Dawn, who was wearing her best 'honest, I'm not worried' face.

"I mean, all we know is that he's not where he's supposed to be, right?" she continued.

"It's a little more than that, Dawn," said Buffy. "He was in his house, then he wasn't. That's not just missing. That's disappearing."

"Well, then, that's magic, right? You know how to fight against magic. You've done it before."

Buffy turned back to the window. "I've fought it before when Giles was there to tell me how. Now..."

"But you said he left because he thought you could handle things yourself now. That _is _why he left, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Buffy turned back to look at Dawn.

"Nothing." She was staring down at her shoes.

Buffy reached over to stroke Dawn's hair, leaning down to look in her eyes. "He didn't leave because of you, if that's what you're thinking. He left because he didn't think I needed a Watcher anymore. Guess he was wrong for once."

"But you're doing okay. You're paying the bills. We still have the house. The child welfare people aren't bothering you anymore. And you've stopped demons and curses since Giles left."

"Minor stuff, mostly. And a lot of it was conjured by those three lame idiots. Who I still can't find. How am I supposed to find whatever took Giles? What if I can't?" The terror she felt when she first heard the news began to rise in her again. If she couldn't find him, if she failed him...

"Of course you'll find him. You're Buffy. That's what you do."

Buffy squeezed her sister's hand. "Remind me of that a few more times when we get there, O.K.?"

"Sure. Besides, we've got The Dream Team back together, don't we? We can't lose."

Buffy craned her neck to look at the others. "I hope so..."

Xander stretched his neck as high as he could to see over the long line of seats ahead of him, in an attempt to find Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Tara.  He could just make out the glint of Buffy's blonde hair up by the cabin and then saw Willow reach up to take her computer case from some man up by the wings. 

 "Oh yeah, let the man sit all by himself in the back for the 9 hour plane flight.  It's okay.  No big deal."  Xander muttered under his breath and popped open the small shiny bag of complimentary peanuts. He smiled apologetically at the woman sitting to his right when his elbow jabbed her in the side from jerking open the bag.  A few minutes later he was saying sorry to the elderly gentleman on his left when he crushed the man's elbow with the armrest.  Xander moved his hips to get more comfortable, and found there was absolutely no wiggle room.  He tried to lean back, but found that the back of his seat was too close to the wall to allow for reclining.  Next he tried stretching out his legs, but a briefcase already occupied the space under the seat in front of him.  Reaching up, he pushed the "call" button again.

A sing-songish male voice attached to an effeminate male figure responded, "What can I help you with now sir?"

"Are you sure there's no other seats on the plane?  Not even one?"

Condescendingly, the steward answered, "I'm sorry sir, but as I explained before we are booked solid for this flight.  Is there something I can get you to make you more comfortable?  Headphones for the movie, a pillow, a blanket, a beverage?"

"No, thank you," Xander peered at the steward's nametag, "Samuel. I'll just sit here crunched and uncomfortable for the next 9 hours." Xander gave Samuel an acid smile as the steward raised a brow and walked away.

Xander began popping peanuts into his mouth, crunching and mulling glumly. _I've no one to talk to.  Should I be worrying about Giles?  I'm sure I should.  But I can't stop thinking about Anya.  Why did she go to England?  Why Giles?  They were acting really strange after we lost our memories, all with the extreme avoidance.  And how come he didn't come to the wedding?  Not even a phone call, just a bunch of flowers.  Not that they weren't nice flowers, but..._  Xander's train of thought stopped as he drifted off to sleep, lulled by the plane's hum, partially chewed peanuts tucked away in one cheek, head drooped onto one shoulder.__


	7. Chapter 7

Buffy was not happy with the weather.  Not seeing the sun in the middle of the afternoon was upsetting.  It was London and it was raining.  They had left Giles' home in Bath and were following up on a lead he had been following.  Once they had given up fighting each other, following Giles' diary to find out who he had been involved with seemed the best idea.   Thank goodness Willow still understood Giles handwriting so well.  According to his diary Giles was looking for a nest of vampires that were responsible for a rash of violent deaths.  It seemed that they had started up just a few months ago.   Giles' diary said that he was frequenting a bar on the lower east side of the city.  That is where they were headed.  They were looking for a vampire that liked to dress up.  Buffy wasn't sure, but she couldn't get the image of some vampire ready to attend prom sitting in a bar.  

The car was quiet.  Buffy pushed the tension aside by marveling at how well Xander drove on the wrong side of the road.  He seemed to always have some hidden talent.  In every situation Xander was able to do something that no one expected him to do.  Now he could drive on the wrong side of the road like he had been doing it all of his life.  The thought that Xander wasn't the best driver in America made her smile.  Maybe this was the reason for that.  

The smile faded and she thought again that no one was talking.  They had done this often enough that they didn't have to talk.  When they got to the bar they would split up.  Xander and Anya would go left, Willow and Tara would go right and Buffy would take the center of the room.  Meet, greet, pump for information and meet outside to compare notes.  Same old drill in old London town.  Buffy found comfort in this.  They knew how to find Giles and therefore they would find Giles.  Kicking bad guy butt was second nature to group and her own personal reason for being.  The Slayer goes international.  It was weird that no one was talking.

She hadn't liked leaving Dawn with Olivia. She knew Giles trusted Olivia, but after seeing the painting... that painting!  Giles, alone, surrounded by demons, running for his life!  What could it mean?

Buffy turned to Anya.  "You're sure the painting wasn't like that before?  That it changed?"

Anya started at the sudden break in the silence.  "Yes. I saw it when I came to dinner the first time.  It was just Giles playing in a coffeehouse.  No demons."

Buffy nodded. It was a curse, then, she thought, a clue to what had happened to him.  Olivia had seemed genuinely upset at the sight of the altered watercolor, but what about those other paintings, the portraits of demons? Maybe the artist knew more than she was telling.  Still, Buffy knew she couldn't bring Dawn along to a bar, especially not a demon bar.  The questions she had for Olivia would have to wait.

Willow was looking out the window watching the city of London go by.  She knew their route would not take them past any of the usual landmarks.  That didn't matter.  Tara was sitting in the car with her just the other side of Anya.   Willow wanted to talk; she wanted to be alone with Tara and talk.  That wasn't going to happen.  Watching the river roll along as the car sped down the highway made Willow uneasy.  They would be at the nightclub soon.  It was the last place that Giles' notes said he went.  He was looking for a particularly nasty killer and Giles was determined that the killing should stop.  He was determined to be the one to stop it.

One of the notebooks wouldn't open.  They hadn't been able to pry it open.  They hadn't been able soak it open.  Water hadn't had any effect at all.  They had resorted to magic, well Tara had, which only gave them the opportunity to see a title on the outside of the notebook.  They couldn't read that.   Willow still wasn't sure if it was some long dead language or a code of some kind.  Willow had worn ink off the keyboard of her laptop looking for an answer, so far nothing.  She felt even more of a failure.  Why couldn't she crack this?  The car was crossing a bridge. _Great, _running water.  That always filled a witch with confidence.

The car came to a halt in a parking space not far from the door of the nightclub.  It was not a trendy place.  It looked quiet and seldom used.  Willow smiled, what other kind of nightclub would Giles frequent?

Once inside they were surprised to find that there were demons that made up the clientele.  The surprise did not cause a ripple in their plan.  They split the room into three sections and began to work.  Xander and Willow paired together and so did Anya and Tara.  Buffy worked alone.

Buffy approached the largest demon in the room.  It was fortunate that it sat in her usual section.  The creature sat like a stone on a chair that shouldn't have held its weight.  The table in front of it carried several tall empty glasses and one glass that was half full of a brown looking liquid.  The creature faced away from the populace of the bar but still seemed part of the goings on in the room.  Buffy sat in the chair across from it, allowing herself a view of the door.  "Hi.  I am looking for someone can you help me find him?  I have been told that he was a regular here.  He is tall, distinguished looking, with a British accent."

Unmoved by the intrusion or the inquiry, the creature was surprised that to find it even noticed the girl.  Blinking slowly and lifting the glass for another sip it responded, "I am Osmund."

Buffy smiled and said, "Well Donnie, it is nice to meet you.  Have you seen my friend?  He is one of the bookish types.  He might have talked to you about music?  I don't like to think about it but there is the possibility that he was in here singing."  She cast an eye over to the small stage at the far end of the room.  

Without being called, the waitress, made up to look like a 17th century bar maid, sat another tall glass on the table.  Buffy heard what she was sure was the sound of coins dropping on the waitress' tray.  She was sure the creature had made no move and there was no one else near them.

Draining the glass of the Long Island Tea, the Osmund moved the empty glass to join its brothers.  He stopped to spend a moment of silence over the fallen soldier and then picked up the waitress' latest offering for his next sip.   

Buffy knew there was something strange going on here.  She just wasn't sure what it was.  She let her eyes move over the room.  She saw Xander move from his first interview to the second one.  Nothing in him suggested alarm or difficulty.  She saw Anya and Tara both attracting attention and handling the men well.  She saw Willow much like Xander moving to her next subject.  The Slayer turned her attention back to the demon and decided it was time she introduced herself.  "I know that I am from out of town but it is possible that you heard of me.  My name is Buffy, I am the Slayer.  I am looking for my Watcher.  What can you tell me, Osmund?"

The Osmund looked directly at her for the first time.  He did not speak.  Instead a third creature joined the table.  Well, he stood leaning against a wall near the table in full view of the Slayer.  "You are not the Slayer.  How can you make such a claim when you don't even know to whom you are talking?"  

Buffy looked at him and dismissed him all in one motion.  He was a demon of that she was sure.  He looked like a man.  He wasn't a vampire.  But he was a demon.  Tall, a little taller than Xander and much more slight.  Blond hair with angular features and the bluest eyes in the world.  He was almost too pretty to be a man.  The blue coat he wore brought out his eyes as if they needed that and the coat belied the casual air of the jeans and loafers he wore.   Buffy was sure she had seen that same white shirt in Dawn's Vogue on the plane ride over.  

"Great Scot, you don't even know who _I _am?"  At this the blond demon looked at the Osmund and said, " I know. I know no one need know who _I_ am but still.  She could have some clue.  My kind are not without influence."  There was a somewhat peeved tone that accompanied the highly refined Oxford accent.  

Seeing it as a possible route to shutting the creature up Buffy took the bait.  "What kind are you?"

Letting his hand rest in the center of his chest in a gesture of indignation the blond demon answered.  "I am a Rapha.  Please do not make the mistake with me that you made with the Osmund.  My name is not Rapha.  I am a Rapha.  I am called Ward."  He made a very grand flourish and said, "I am not at your service.  Though... I wouldn't necessarily mind offering some assistance to one of your comrades."  The Rapha turned a very winning smile onto Xander.

"I made a mistake?  He said he was Osmund.  He isn't Osmund?"  

Turning back to Buffy the Rapha became impatient.  "He's an Osmund, girlie.  If you are _the Slayer_ surely you know what an Osmund is.  Surely you have heard of this Osmund."  He looked at her a mixture of query and impertinent condescension.  When she didn't respond he turned to the Osmund.  "She is not who she claims to be.  Let me kill her for offending you.  Let me kill her for offending me.  Let me kill her and take her good looking friend somewhere nice for a drink."  

The Osmund was now coming to the halfway point on his drink.  The waitress crossed the floor again and gave him another.  The coins on her tray this time came from the Rapha, Ward.  Buffy used the break to look to her friends again.  Everyone was fine.  Willow was still toying with that unopened notebook of Giles' as she spoke with a small winged demon near the stage.

The Osmund's own wings moved slightly.  The movement was enough to stir the air in the entire room.  Suddenly all eyes were fixed on Buffy and… no, all eyes were fixed on the Osmund and its table.  This was new to Buffy what creature demanded greater attention than she did.

"My name is Ulrich.  Giles said that he had not told you about the Osmund.  I _thought_ him a liar." The demon's tone carried a small amount of amusement.

Buffy's eyes grew wide with disbelief. Then narrowed. "He is a liar.  He told me about Ulrich, the god protector, that let a god die to save a human girl.  An immortal that abandoned his charge for humanity.  That preserved a corpse at the expense of unending life."

"I am fond of your Watcher.  The first one I have known in an age and he is a credit to them.  The book you can not open is not meant for you and I want it returned to Giles.  Per our agreement the book can not be read by anyone but Giles until the day that Giles dies.  Then the book will be given to one person who will be the only person able to read the book. So it will be forever."  With that Ulrich stood and in the blink of an eye was gone.

Ward was visibly shaken. He hadn't expected Ulrich to leave the bar without him.  He looked at Buffy suspiciously.  "You belong to Giles?  You are a child of the Osmund?  I have not seen Ulrich use his powers for nearly a thousand years.  He _really_ didn't want to talk to you."  Under his breath, "So he sticks me with it."  

Buffy looked at Ward and said, "He as much as told me that Giles is still alive.  Where did he go?  I am not through with him."  

Somewhat recovered and seeing that this was going to take longer than his already failing interest would last, Ward lowered himself gracefully into the chair nearest to himself.  He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes.  "Now, now don't get your knickers in a twist little girl.  You can't go where he went."  Seeing the objection forming on her face he continued, "Do not be tiresome."  His voice soft and encouraging, "Or I will have to resort to more... _basic _nature.  The Osmund will not be disturbed."  Ward moved his hand to fleck away an offending piece of lint from the sleeve of his jacket.  He lifted his eyes to Buffy's to be sure that there was no misunderstanding.  Content that she would be reasonable he continued, "He is a friend of your Giles.  That book contains the story of Ulrich's abdication.  You think he shared that with Giles for no reason?  The two of them met and have been drinking together ever since. At least up until about month ago.  Giles started coming in and not talking to Ulrich.  Ulrich never spoke to Giles.  I _thought_ Giles was tracking some evil beastie.  That is the one thing that Ulrich will no longer get involved with.  He doesn't participate in the fight between good and evil.  He hasn't for several millennia.  That is your job."  Looking rather pointed away from Buffy Ward said, "Giles had the good manners not to pollute the Osmund's life with such trivial matters."  The smile that didn't reach his eyes returned as his gaze feel upon Buffy again, "Naturally, I was right.  Giles was on the trail of a vampire.  A vampire from the States, I gathered.  I think that made Giles feel responsible for the creature somehow.  I think he knew her."

Buffy eyes grew wide, "Her." 

*****

In a basement somewhere in East London, she was waiting.

"Ooooo, company's on its way!  I have to prepare for my guests. They'll expect a nice party game. We'll have sooo much fun!"


	8. Chapter 8

What happened? How had he gotten here? Giles vaguely remembered being at home, waiting for Anya. What was he doing here, with his guitar in his hands? He looked around to find familiar surroundings. Of course! It was that coffee shop in Chelsea, the one where he'd met Olivia. He hadn't been back in years, not since before he first went to America. Strange, it hadn't changed at all since then. Still the same stage he used to sing from, the same furnishings as when she introduced herself by showing him the sketches she'd made of him while he was performing. Even the faces of the help and the audience looked familiar. But when he looked again, they began to change. The eyes took on a reddish glow. The teeth grew into fangs, the hands into talons. Demons! They rose up from the tables and chairs and began advancing on him. He looked behind him and the stage had disappeared, the whole room had evaporated. All around him was a bleak, rocky plain, the only thing on it a great black building with darkened windows. He raced for it, hearing the screeching of his pursuers close behind. He flew through the open door, slamming and locking it behind him.

His back braced against the door as he prepared for an assault, Giles found himself in an immense empty room. "Good Lord, what have I gotten into?" he thought, then realized that the noise outside had ceased. Looking through a window, all he could see was an empty plain. No more demons.

But when he turned back around, the huge room was gone. Instead a long corridor stretched in front of him, with a multitude of doors on either side. It seemed to go on without end, and he wondered whether it might be better to go back outside. Then he heard it. The music. It was a theme from Brahms, played on the piano in a way he'd heard it a thousand times by... but how could that be? He walked cautiously down the hallway, listening at each door until he could tell where the sound was coming from. When he found the room, he entered and knew he was right.

This was a room that he knew would never change.  It looked the same when he went to visit just last Christmas as it had when he was a child. The long shelves filled with books, the table where the research materials were laid out, the piano in the corner. The piano! No one was sitting there. Where had the music...?

"I stopped playing when I heard you coming."

It was him. He hadn't changed either. It always seemed to Giles that he never changed. When he saw him a few months back he'd noticed that his hair was completely white now, but nothing else seemed different.

"Father, what am I doing here? What are _we _doing here?"

Giles Sr. spoke kindly. "This is the place for us, Rupert. Where else would we be?"

"What place? I don't understand."

"The place for failures, son. We failed, both of us."

"Failed? Failed at what?"

"I failed by making you become a Watcher.  Family tradition and all that. You didn't want it, but I insisted.  I'm sorry, Rupert. I can see it now. Your failure is my failure, too."

"I haven't failed."

"Haven't you? You've fought evil, killed vampires and demons, but what's really changed? Evil still exists, it returns over and over. There are always more demons, more vampires. The battle is futile, we should accept that. Instead, we break our hearts over a fight we can never win. I don't want that for you anymore, son, it hurts me to see it put you in so much pain. Don't you see that?"

Giles felt stunned. "I... I've never heard you talk like this before."

"I should have done it long ago. When you dropped out of Oxford, I should have let you go. It's too late now, too late..."

He walked out through the far doorway. Giles followed, but he was gone. He was out in the long corridor again, but it was different now: Smaller, dingier, yet somehow familiar. He could hear music again, more well remembered chords, this time a spacey guitar, coming through an open door:

[So, so you think you can tell/Heaven from Hell/Blue skies from pain/Can you tell a green field/From a cold steel rail/A smile from a veil/Do you think you can tell?]

Everything was just as he remembered it: The gray cinderblock walls, the never-made bed, the perpetual pile of unwashed dishes in the sink. And in the corner, the terrible shrine to Eyghon, the one where they'd...

[How I wish/How I wish you were here/We're two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl/Year after year]

"So, old man, are you glad to be home?"

He knew that voice, and it filled him with cold rage. "This was never home, Ethan. This was just a place I ran away to."

"Oh, come now, Ripper, that's not true. This was your real home. You were more yourself here than anywhere else. Both of us were."

"This is where we killed a man!"

"Randall? He knew the risks. We all did. Eyghon took him and that was that. No point in feeling guilty. All you have to do is accept it. I have."

"Yes. And look where it's gotten you!"

"We're both here, old man. How do you account for that?"

"I... I can't. But I don't have to stay here."

[Running over the same old ground/What have we found/The same old fears/Wish you were here]

"Suit yourself, Rupert. Run back to your books, the way you always did. You'll find them across the hall. 

I'll stay here and tidy up a bit until you get back. Be seeing you."

Giles walked through the open door that led to the long rows of bookcases. Wandering through the stacks, again there came the sense of familiarity, and before he reached the end, he knew what he would find there: The short stairway and, at the bottom of it, the Sunnydale High library. The surprise was the woman waiting for him.

"I wonder why I never came here before. It's nice here. Quiet. No wonder my daughter spent more time here than at home."

"Joyce, I wasn't trying to take her away from you. I had the best intentions..."

"I understand that. I understand a lot of things now. Good intentions, we know where those lead, don't we?"

"She misses you. Terribly."

"And I miss her. But I don't blame you.  I would have died anyway**_.  _**You were doing everything you were supposed to do.  But did it help me?  Or her?  Or you?  I was alone at the end. Just like she's alone now. We're always alone when the worst happens. You remember what that's like."

"Remember?"  

"Just go up those stairs."

Giles turned to look, and the stairs had changed. They were no longer the library stairs.  On each step was a glass with a candle burning in it. He could smell the aroma of the rose petals and hear the music, Puccini's La Boheme. His throat tightened at the thought of what he knew was upstairs. A new voice stopped him.

"Rupert, don't go up there. You don't have to see it again."

He couldn't turn. He couldn't look at her. She came to stand in front of him, looking solemnly up at him.

"Jenny... I'm sorry... I loved you... "

"And I loved you. But that didn't change anything.  What happened to me wasn't your fault. You were doing the best you could do.  But that didn't change anything.  I would have been murdered****anyway. Don't you see? Nothing we do can change anything. All you have to do is accept that. That's what this place is all about."

"Then I can't stay here. I can't accept it. There has to be a way out!"

"You can't leave, Rupert. This place was made for you. Everything you were, everything you are, is here. You can't escape from it anymore than you can escape from yourself."

"No. There has to be a way." He pushed past her and out the door. Rushing out the corridor, he looked for a familiar door. And found one, white with 1630 on it. His hand shook as he took hold of the knob and turned it.  He found himself in the Summers living room. A wave of dread washed through him at what she'd say. There she was, standing in the kitchen doorway. She looked small and worn.

"I thought you left. I thought you weren't coming back."

"I know you're not real. I know you're just a demon's illusion."

"I'm real enough. I'm what you expect."

"No, you're what I fear."

"Isn't fear real? It is here."

"You mustn't give up."

"Mustn't I? Didn't you give up on me?"

"No. You know I didn't. I could never give up on you."

"You should leave now. You were right. You can't help me anymore than I can help you."

Buffy retreated back through the kitchen door. His legs heavy and unsteady, he followed, even though he knew she wouldn't be there.


	9. Chapter 9

"Where to now?" Xander wanted to know. 

Buffy's frown intensified as she struggled to think. "When we came here, we assumed we were looking for some new threat, but now we know that's not the case. If Giles knows this vampire from the states, we know her."

Anya shrugged. "Well, there's Harmony, but personally I always spent all of my time trying to avoid her. And that was when she was still a human." 

"Yeah," Willow chimed in, "and we know that Darla's not around anymore, seeing that she went 'poof' with the self-stakage and all." 

"Darla would have been a better guess, since she spent so much time here in England with Ang..." Buffy drifted off. "Oh my god!" 

The group looked from one to another, realization hitting at the same moment. 

"Drusilla." The name jumped out of all of them at once. 

Dawn was confused. "What? What's the big about Drusilla? All I know is that she's Spike's ex-whatever..." 

Xander looked like he'd just bitten into a bad Doublemeat Burger. "Dawn, she's insane. And she can hypnotize people. She helped Angel..." he stopped to glance at Buffy, "er, Angelus torture Giles. She's also killed a Slayer." 

"Oh." 

Starting strong, Willow's voice dwindled down to a whisper, "This explains why Giles didn't mention the vampire he was hunting by name.  This explains why he would hunt a nest of vampires alone.  Drusilla used Giles' memory of Jenny, his love for her, to torture him."

Suddenly Buffy was all business. "Come on. We're going to get some information one way or the other." 

"Where are we going now?" Anya inquired, "Because I wore my Ferragamo boots, and frankly they're beginning to pinch." 

Buffy just kept walking. "We are going to confront the Watcher's Council. They must know something." 

*****

The group crowded into the entryway of the tall, elegant brownstone. Buffy strode to the desk and didn't wait for the matronly woman sitting there to speak. "I need to see Quentin Travers. Now."

The woman raised a condescending brow. "I'm sorry. Mr. Travers only sees individuals who have an appointment." She looked at a ledger. "There is no entry today for a rude American." 

Buffy slammed her hand on the desk. Her hand sinking into the hard wood just enough to form small cracks, "I am not just any rude American. I am The Rude Slayer, and anger is riding piggy-back on rude right now."  Buffy glanced down at the cracks in the top of the desk and pushed until the wood groaned under the pressure.

"I'll buzz Mr. Travers now." 

"Thank you." 

*****

Twenty minutes later, Buffy's ire was continuing to grow.  Twenty minutes and Quentin Travers had offered no help.  He didn't intend to offer any help. In order to stave off the impending explosion from Buffy, Xander placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back a few steps. Willow stepped forward uncertainly. "Mr. Travers, I... I don't understand why you aren't more concerned about the disappearance of one of your Watchers. Don't you want us to find him?" 

Travers leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together across his bulging waistline.  "You are one of the Slayer's little witch friends, aren't you? I see no reason to answer to you, but if it will clear you all out of my office I will explain." 

He sat forward with his elbows on the desk and his fingertips steepled together. His face held profound disinterest. "The role of Slayer in our world, while necessary, is inherently temporary. The girls usually expire every two to three years and are immediately replaced. That is the way it works. Watchers are even more expendable. For every Slayer the Council has many potential Watchers. We simply provide the one who is most convenient. Since Miss Summers has outgrown her need for a Watcher, we can't really be overly concerned that she has misplaced hers." 

"Misplaced?" Buffy surged out of Xander's grasp and leaned over into Travers' face. "I'll give you misplaced, you arrogant gas bag.  Giles was worth more that the entire group of you, you overstuffed..." Buffy paused, rage and frustration at war inside her.  "WANKER!" 

Buffy turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. The others paused uncertainly inside the office, unsure of what to do next.

Willow glanced at Tara and noticed her little smile. "What Tara?" She inquired softly.

"I can't believe she just called him a 'wanker'." The two wiccas giggled, not noticing Xander's look of confusion. Anya leaned over to offer the meaning of the insult to Xander.  He turned bright red and burst out laughing. He glanced back at Travers' outraged expression, then laughed even harder.

"We'd better go." He was still snickering as he held the door for Anya.

Willow smiled too. Standing in the door Willow turned to Quentin. "You should know that Drusilla is loose in your city.  She took Giles.  If we don't stop her that reservoir of expendable Watchers is _so_ going to run dry.  Bye, now."

*************

"Well, that was helpful, not." Dawn snorted. "What now?"

Everyone looked at Buffy. Tired, exasperated Buffy. "Oh, god." she groaned. "I don't know. Let's go back to the house and talk with Olivia. She _must _know something."

Olivia greeted them kindly, but could offer no help. She offered to make them supper.

Buffy was frustrated. "SUPPER!" she snorted. "Look, _someone_ put Giles in that painting.  I," she caught the glances of Xander, of Willow, "we, need to know who. And we need to know now!"

Olivia erupted. "You really believe I would do something like that?!! Let some monster or vampire or demon take him?! Or, dear God, send him off to some horrible place where he would suffer God knows what kind of torment! What kind of a woman would do that to a man she loved?!"

The artist looked around the room. Xander was looking intently at the floor. Willow had a worried stare, fixed, not at her, but at Buffy. The Slayer's rage had suddenly disappeared.

Buffy sighed, turned her head. Gently, she said, "No, I don't think you're the kind of woman who would do that."

The Slayer and the Painter regarded each other coolly. "But what about these pictures?  I thought you didn't believe in monsters, but there are five canvases right here that seem to deny that."

"I, I don't know what to tell you. I don't paint or sketch because I want to; I do it because I _have_ to. If I don't, I feel incomplete, not, well, not whole. Do you have any idea what that's like?" The withering stare gave her an answer. "Yes, I guess you do..."

"My painting, the sketches are a way of connecting to Rupert. His work is so important to him; he nearly eats, sleeps and breathes demon lore." 

Buffy smiled in spite of herself. "You _do _know him, don't you?" she said, and Olivia tried to smile back. 

"When he describes these, these monsters, I _see_ them, I can put them to paper, to canvas. It helps him with his research, him and his, um, allies I guess you would call them, the Council. Getting him to sit for that," she started weeping, "for that water-color, was so hard, and now it's gone, corrupted, it's sick."

Olivia sat heavily and buried her face in her hands. Buffy took a step toward her, then hesitated, unsure of what to do. Tara rescued her. Sitting down next to Olivia, she gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and offered her a handkerchief. "Don't worry. We'll find him. It's what we do." Tara looked up at Buffy. "Right?"

"Absolutely," said Buffy, hoping it sounded more convincing than it felt.

Olivia dried her eyes. "That's what he always said about you. About all of you. You never give up, no matter what the odds."

"Never say die," said Buffy, "That's the Scooby motto."

"We never _say _die," said Xander, and gave Buffy a big Xander grin. "One of us _does_ it occasionally, but we never _say_ it."

Buffy grinned back. "Thanks. Any ideas on what we do now?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Xander. "Drusilla."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Are we back to that again?"

"I never left." Even when speaking to her, he couldn't look at his ex-fiancée.

"But Drusilla is just a vampire," said Willow.  "She's not a witch or a sorcerer. She doesn't cast spells."

"Do I have to remind you that Drusilla is no ordinary vampire? She can see the future, hypnotize people, get inside their minds. She's been set on fire, had a church fall on her, not to mention living with Spike for 100 years. Plus the fact that she's _insane_!  There's no telling what she's capable of."

"We do have all of Giles notes and maps and things," said Willow. "He thought she was feeding in one East End neighborhood. He was planning to stake it out when he, ahh... well, you know."

"We have his weapons. I say we saddle up."

Buffy considered, then decided. "It's the only lead we have. If we can find her, maybe we can get something out of her."

"Too bad Spike's not here," said Dawn. "She might talk to him."

Buffy grimaced. "We can't worry about that now. You stay with Olivia. No arguments." Dawn pouted, but didn't object. "We may be out all night.  If Dru's the one who cursed Giles, she'd better be ready. She's gonna get more than she asked for."

*****

Buffy, Willow, Tara, Anya, and Xander slowly made their way down the dark, narrow sidewalk of an empty looking street in the Whitechapel district, a street marked by boarded-up windows and empty storefronts. All carried weapons, scanning the street and surrounding buildings as they walked.

"Trust Drusilla to hunt in Jack the Ripper's old neighborhood," said Willow.

Xander replied. "Give her that much. She's a traditionalist."

"Do you think Jack the Ripper might have been a vampire?" asked Tara.

"No," said Buffy. "I once asked Giles about it. He said the Watchers Council investigated it back then and were sure it wasn't a vampire. But he might have been a demon."

"No. Jack the Ripper was a human," said Anya

Xander turned to her.  "And you know this how?"

"I had connections. I was in the loop."

"He must have been a popular guy with the demons," said Xander. "I mean, for a human he did some pretty impressive slaughtering and maiming."

Anya shook her head. "Oh no, he was hated. Especially by vampires. He drew too much attention, made the government clean up the area, scared people away from the feeding grounds. In fact, the rumor was that the reason the police never caught him was that a vampire got him first."

"Weren't Spike and Drusilla living in England around then?" said Willow

"Great!" said Xander. "Now we're hunting the Girl Who Ate Jack the Ripper."

Buffy suddenly stopped walking and pointed across the street. "Speak of the devil."

The others looked over to see Drusilla in front of a store whose front window was gone. She turned, stared directly at the Scoobies, and smiled with delight. Beckoning to them, she called out "Red Rover, Red Rover, Let Buffy come over," and ducked into the store.

Buffy went dashing after her, the others at her heels. They found Dru in a low-ceilinged room, lit by old-style gas lanterns, the only other access was a connecting door at her back.

"Oooo, look, everyone's come to play with me."

Buffy struggled to control her rage, her desire to stake the insane vamp and be done with her. "Where is he, Dru? What did you do to Giles?"

"You've lost your Daddy, have you? Both your daddies. Just like me. Both my daddies. My second daddy killed my first one. And you, you took away my second daddy." Her voice hardened as she fixed an angry stare on Willow, who shrank back, unconsciously grabbing Tara's hand. 

"So that's it, is it," said Buffy, trying to keep her voice steady."  You took him to get even. Where did you take him? Where is he?"

"I can see him," said Dru, her voice soft and dreamy again. "His friend wanted to play with him. That's where he is. He's having fun, playing with all his old friends. Just like me." She turned a glittery stare on Anya. "Don't you want to play with me, dear?"

Caught unaware, Anya took a few involuntary steps towards Dru. Xander leaped forward. His cry of "Anya!" snapped her out of it, but Dru was too quick. Jumping in front of him, she flung him back into the others. Knocking Anya unconscious, she slung her over her shoulder and fled through the rear door, breaking a lantern behind her to cover her escape.

The others scrambled to their feet, but flames already blocked the exit. Xander raced toward the doorway anyway. "Xander, wait!" cried Buffy as she dove to stop him, but he leaped past her, through the flames and was gone.

Willow turned to Tara. "Tara! Fire spell!" But Tara had already closed her eyes and begun to chant. "Avas cessio," she intoned, and an opening in the flames appeared. In an instant the three women were through the doorway and in pursuit.

They found Xander in the next room, frantically slapping at the sparks smoldering on his clothes.

"Did I get them all?" he yelled.

"You're fine, Xander. Just a little singed. Which way?"

"It had to be through there, " he said, pointing toward a far doorway. "Come on!"

Beyond that room was another. And then another. The chain of rooms led on and on. Buffy felt sure it was a trap, that Dru would be waiting for them at the end with something horrible, but she knew that Xander would go on no matter how much she might warn him. Best to deal with it once they got to it...

...Anya felt her head clearing. She looked up to see Drusilla grinning down on her.

"I'm tired of hide-and-seek," said Dru. "Are you tired of hide-and-seek?"

"Yes... yes, no more hide-and-seek."

"Good. The others will be here soon. We must have a new game ready for them. I know! We shall have a scavenger hunt." Her voice again took on the hard, angry tone. "I shall cut you apart and have your friends search for the pieces. Won't that be fun for us all?"

As she came closer, Anya closed her eyes and whispered "Xander," as if he could somehow hear her. The next voice she heard wasn't the one she'd hoped for, but it was nearly as welcome.

"Now, now, pet..." said the familiar voice from the far corner of the room. Anya opened her eyes to see a stunned Dru whirl to face the figure coming out of the shadows.

"...Is that any way to treat the tourists? They _are _our guests in the mother country."

"Spike?"


	10. Chapter 10

They ran into the next room.  Xander was already at the door on the far side.  He grabbed the handle and immediately recoiled, swearing and shaking his right hand.

"Hold still," said Willow, trying to get a better look at his hand.  The smell of burnt flesh made her gag.  His fingertips showed small blisters.  She turned to Tara asking, "Can you?" 

"I… I would, but we need to get out of here," said Tara, pointing at the smoke pouring in from under the door.

Shaking Willow loose, Xander said "But Anya's through there.  I won't abandon her again."  He shrugged his jacket off, trying to wrap it around the door handle.

"Wait! That's the direction we came from."  They all looked at Buffy questioningly.  "This room, I recognize it from about five rooms back."

"How?" Xander's voice cracked.  "They must have come this way."

"Not if we missed another door in previous room."  Buffy's mouth was set in a tight line.  "Time to backtrack - carefully."

Buffy led the way back through the door, anticipating Drusilla's attack.  The room was empty and Buffy made a beeline for a wall.  Tara joined her in looking for a hidden door.

 "We need to wrap your hand,"  Willow said to Xander, stopping him from searching.  He handed Willow his jacket, but she shook her head.  "Too dirty."  She looked down at her skirt and then stepped out of her slip, wrapping it loosely around his hand.  Cupping his hand, she looked up at him.  "Be careful.  We need you in one piece."

Tara glanced over at Willow and Xander.  In a low voice she said to Buffy, "This place is a tinderbox."

"I know."

"Fire has a life of its own.  I, I can't protect us from it."

"Okay."  Buffy continued to run her hands along the walls.  Tara set her hand lightly on Buffy's arm.  Buffy stood still looking straight at the wall, palms flat against it.  She closed and opened her eyes.  "You're right.  If we don't find the door in the next room, we'll leave.  We can't help Anya or Giles if we're crispy chips."

*****

Spike lit a cigarette and took a drag.  Then, with cigarette still in hand, he ran his thumb along the back of his neck, asking himself why exactly he had gotten involved in something that didn't directly concern him.  How was he going to get them out of this rabbit hole, especially when Dru was mad as a hatter?  Biding his time just a bit longer, he exhaled the smoke slowly. 

He hopped off the crate and sauntered toward them.  "This is where you say 'hello Spike, how are things in Sunnydale?'  No?  What's wrong luv, cat got your tongue?"

Anya pushed backward with her feet and elbows, inching toward Spike, never taking her eyes off of Dru.

Dru's eyes narrowed.  Her hands were straight at her sides as she ran her thumbs along the sharp tips of her fingernails.  "Get out," she hissed.  "Find your chariot and get out."

Spike pursed his lips.  Yep, no use trying the logical argument on Dru.  "Right, need to be on my way soon.  But there must be time for a cuppa tea and a little reminiscing?"  He gave her his best boyish smile.

"A fool with his cups.  You weren't invited to the party."  In a fluid motion, Dru moved forward, bringing the ball of her foot down on Anya's windpipe.  Anya's cry twisted into a gurgle as she clawed at Drusilla's leg.

Spike stopped, palms up.  There goes trying sweet talk.   "Didn't know family needed an invitation," he said as he took another drag.

"Family?"  She echoed.  "I've no family.  Who are you?"

Smoke came out of his nose as he thought, _Other vamps, they got sired by stable, reasonably sane vampires.  But no, I'm the creation of a couple generations of loons_.  Aloud and looking at Dru he said,  "You're sore because you think I forgot your birthday, aren't ya?  Well, I didn't.  I've got a present," he nodded behind himself, "right over there."

Dru's eyes lit up.  "A gift?"

Spike took another drag, using his hand to cover the smirk on his face.  Good girl.

"How 'bout you take your foot off Missy Warbucks and I'll get the gift?"

Dru's eyes narrowed. "How do I know it's not a trick?  Water's thicker than blood for you."

"No tricks luv.  Honest.  Just a treat."

Suspicion and curiosity played back and forth across her face.  Her foot eased up and Anya gasped.

"It's getting a bit smoky in here.  Now or never for your gift…" coaxed Spike.

Drusilla reached down and in a blink Anya found herself staring into Drusilla's blood red lips.  Anya willed herself to do nothing to let Dru know how painful the grip around her forearms was, but she couldn't stop the rapid pounding of her heart.

Spike's voice was a sing-song of temptation and flattery.  "Leave her, Pet.  Come, come see the pretty I've brought for you."  

Despite the glee of her anticipation and the dazed look in her eye, Dru wasn't ready to be fooled by Spike.  She knew him as well as he knew her**_._**  "You give me the gift, and if I like it, I'll give you the girl," Dru counteroffered, dropping Anya into a wooden chair, firmly pressing her into the seat.

Spike reached back with his right hand and pulled out a dented breadbox sized tin.  "Now Pet, you of all people know I wasn't born yesterday.  How 'bout I show you your present and if you like it," he said as he ran his hand across the latch, "I get the little shop girl."

"This better be a damn good gift," Anya muttered under her breath.

"Oh it is," said Spike with a smile.  "Dru knows what's in here, don't you?"

"It was a bitter night when we buried her.  Angelus held an umbrella over me and you dug the grave," Drusilla recalled in a singsong voice.

Spike's smile soured.  "Held you a bit closer than necessary, if you ask me."

"Just to keep the rain off and to console me, pet."

"That's what you're calling it now, consoling?"

Anya interrupted, "So something that's been dead for over a hundred years is in that box?  My value is equivalent to that!?  This is a rotten plan."

"I should wash your mouth out with soap and water," said Drusilla.  "She's worth five of you.  Please Spike, show me Miss Lilith."

The metal screeched as the tight hinges were coaxed apart. Spike tipped the box up, dirt fell away from the outside.  Inside was a delicate doll with violet eyes framed in dark lashes and a head of dark curls, nestled in a satin lining with a sprig of dried flowers laying across her chest.  Drusilla clapped her hands together and Spike slammed the lid shut.  Their eyes locked.  Spike nodded toward Anya and drummed his fingers lightly on the box.     

In the tight silence Anya could hear the crackling sound of flames on dry wood.  She hoped that the roaring sound was the blood rushing in her ears and not the fire.  She bit her lip to keep from screaming or worse yet, babbling about how the doll was certainly a priceless collector's item in pristine condition and would fetch quite a price. 

Without warning, Drusilla grabbed Anya by the nape of her neck and hauled her to her feet.  "Go," she hissed.  "Go now."

For a moment, Anya couldn't feel her legs, but she moved forward anyway as Spike set the box on the ground.  Then the pinpricks of pain kicked in and Anya stumbled.  Spike caught her under her arms and scooped her up.  He gave Drusilla a bright smile, "See, that wasn't so bad now was it?"

*****

Buffy hated to admit it, but Drusilla had eluded them.  The search for a secret door in this room had been as unsuccessful as the other.  She turned toward the group, "The haze is getting thicker.  We're going to have to leave.  Hold on to the person in front of you and let's hope we can still get out the way we came in."

"You go ahead, I'm not leaving without Anya," said Xander as he continued to work the floor.

"Xander, it's too dangerous," said Willow.

Xander said nothing and began rechecking a stretch of wall.

Tara stepped up.  "I hate to mention this, but they may not even be in the building anymore.  Fire is to vampires what a cat is to mice."

After a moment, Xander's shoulder's sagged.  "You're right."

"Tara, we might need another of your fire spells, so you take the lead.  I'll bring up the rear," said Buffy, wanting to ensure that Xander didn't try anything rash.

Xander knew what Buffy was thinking and over his shoulder he said, "You know, if there had been more fire/vamp, cat/mice analogies on the SAT, I would have scored a lot higher."

*****

Spike moved quickly to the metal ladder in the corner of the room.  Looking at Anya he asked, "Got your sea legs back?  We gotta go up."

"Up?  How is being on the roof of a burning building going to help us?"

"Do you have a better plan?" Anya looked at him blankly.  "Didn't think so."

Anya moved toward the ladder.  Spike held her back, eyeing her over before pulling on the ladder, loosening the lower bolts.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Anya.  For a moment she just looked at him, "You expect me to climb it now that it's hanging on by imagination?"

"No worries.  I'll hold it down here.  That should help steady it. Now go ahead and climb."

Anya racked her brain, trying to think of an alternative.  None were springing to mind.  So she moved up the ladder, aware of it shaking with every step.  

Spike looked over his shoulder and saw Drusilla cradling the doll in her arms.  Through the crack under the door behind her, he saw the shadow and light of the fire dancing.  He looked up at Anya, "Could you pick up the pace, luv?"

"Doing the best I can, given the ladder's a little loose," replied Anya through clenched teeth.  Calling on every ounce of energy left in her, she picked up her speed.  "Smoothly, smoothly," she said to herself.  

At the top, the trapdoor was closed.  She pushed on the handle, fearing it would be tight.  Instead it gave easily, throwing her off balance.  Recovering, she climbed out onto the roof and the damp night air.  She lay there for a moment, catching her breath.  Then she moved toward the opening to call to Spike, but he was already pulling himself through the opening.  Lying flat on the roof, he leaned in and yanked on the ladder, pulling it loose and lifting it out.  Furrowing his brow, he used his hands to bend the wall brace until it curved into a "U" shape.  It fit over the lip of the roof sufficiently, but was about nine feet short of the ground.

"Oh, bugger."

Anya was impressed by the ingenuity of Spike's plan, but along with him, realized its major shortcoming.  A number of people were starting to gather, rubbernecking at the fire.  Anya's eyes were drawn to the movement of one person in particular.  

"Xander!  Buffy!  Everyone, up here!" she shouted.

Relief flooded Xander as he looked up to see Anya's blonde hair shining in the darkness.  Until he realized the second blond was Spike.  Of course Spike would be in on this with Drusilla.  The rage that replaced the relief left him light-headed as they raced over to the corner of the building.  To no one in particular he muttered "If he's hurt her, I'll stake him, chip be damned."

"If I send her down, can you catch her or at least break her drop?" Spike called down.

Buffy eyed the ladder, pushing out of her mind questions of how and why Spike was here, simply glad that for once he was in the right place at the right time.  "Anya, when you get to the bottom, if you can dangle off the end then I think Xander will be able to grab you, okay?"

"Not seeing a lot of other options," she replied.  "You'll be spotting me, right Buffy?"

"Not taking my eyes off of you until you're down," she replied lightly, knowing without looking how that dig hit its mark with Xander.

Anya was halfway down before Xander realized that Spike was _assisting_ in Anya's rescue.  That somehow Spike was the reason Anya was about to be in his arms.  He stood under the ladder, coaching Anya as she crouched on the bottom rung, "Come on, Anya.  Hold on tight and move your feet off.  I'm right here, I'll catch you."

Through clenched teeth Anya said under her breath, "So help me, Alexander Harris, if you don't…" and slid her feet off, hoping her arms could take it.  Then she felt Xander's strong arms encircle her thighs and could feel his breath on her stomach.  Thankfully he did have a firm grasp because she found herself too affected to hold on.  He slid her gently through his arms until they were face to face, her toes barely touching the ground.  The sound of shattering glass made their heads snapped around.  The fire had blown out a window further down on the building.  Anya pushed away from Xander, busying herself with dusting off her blouse.

"I know it's a hallmark moment and all, but why don't you step back a few feet?" yelled Spike.

While the Scoobies were stepping back, Spike tucked his hand inside the arms of his duster, grabbed the outsides of the ladder supports, set the insoles of his boots against the outsides as well, and slid at lightning speed down it, dropping to the ground like a cat.  When he reached the group, he nodded to the right, "We seem to have drawn a bit of attention, let's say we get out of here before any newsies catch sight of us?"

They strolled as fast as they could without drawing additional attention.  When they were a block and a half away, Buffy stopped the group and turned to Spike.  "We can't leave.  Not until we get what we came for, Drusilla."

Spike grinned.  "Yeah, the Bit told me that's who you were after.  Realized I better get over here and lend a hand.  No worries with Drusilla.  She probably knew another way out and I gave her something to keep her good and distracted for a bit.  There won't be sight or sound of her for a while."  

A white rage came over Buffy.  Spike was landing on the ground before she realized she had delivered a sidekick to his chest.

"You know Slayer, in England people usually just say a polite 'thank you' and skip the fighting.  Too much passion involved." 

Tara stared at Spike. "It isn't Drusilla at all, is it?"  She said as she offered him a hand up.

"No," replied Spike as he dusted himself off.  "Thought that was apparent.  Let me try explaining it in English even Americans can follow."  

He looked at Buffy as he pulled the postcard out of an inner coat pocket and handed it to Tara.  "After you left, a postcard arrived that provided the identity of Giles' travel agent to hell."  

"What does it say?" asked Anya.

Tara began to read the postcard, with Willow looking over her shoulder.  As they reached the bottom of the card, their eyes widened.  "Oh."  Tara gave the card to Buffy. 

"Who is it?" asked Xander as he and Anya tried to read over Buffy's shoulder.

"Let's get back to the car," said Buffy, scanning the card while walking.  "Spike, continue.  Please."

She looked him in the eye as she said 'please' and Spike accepted it as the closest thing he'd get to an apology.  Hell, it was far more than he usually got.  "I couldn't reach you before you flew out, so I hopped a flight myself.  I decided to surprise you by nabbing the Big Bad first and then with the bird in hand, filling you in.  Course the surprise was on me when I arrived at Giles' flat and found out you'd left for London to chase poor Dru around."

Buffy reached the bottom of the card and stopped in her tracks.  Xander and Anya nearly tripped over her.

"Buff, who is it?" asked Xander.

"Ethan Rayne."  She resumed their trek to the car.  She looked straight ahead and in a flat tone said, "Spike, please tell me you didn't leave Dawn and Olivia alone in Giles' apartment with Ethan, did you?" 

Spike answered slowly, in no mood for her backhand.  "Of course not.  Though you might not fully approve of who is with them.  Keep in mind, best of a limited list of options.  And by the way, they aren't in Bath.  Livy drove the lot of us to London."


	11. Chapter 11

Olivia sat behind the wheel of her car, marveling at this topsy-turvy worldview that she had embraced in short order. She looked over to the passenger seat.  Dawn had her feet pressed against the dashboard, a large book of what Olivia had been told were spells and incantations resting against Dawn's knees.  Her head was bent over the book, her long hair hanging straight down, hiding most of her face.  Olivia looked down, realizing with horror that she had pulled a pencil out of her bag and had begun to sketch Dawn.  She knew it was her picture that somehow played a role in Rupert's current difficulties, but not knowing exactly how, she was paranoid about drawing anyone with any medium.

Olivia stared into the rearview mirror, studying the passengers in the back seat.  The woman.  What was her name again?  Ended in 'lee'.  Something-ah-lee.  Emily…  Cecily…  Hallie.  That was it. Hallie.  She sat there humming as she brushed an emory board along her already perfect half-moon fingernails.  Rayne was in the other seat, bound and gagged.  Yet he still managed to have a smirk about him that she wanted to peel off his face.  She tried to stay satisfied with the memory of how green he'd looked when Spike had brought him in tow to their flat.  With Dawn's reassurances, she accepted his explanation and assessment of the situation, knowing she would believe in unicorns if it could bring RG back.

"Hey," said Dawn, looking up from the book.  "This is interesting."

Halfrek leaned forward and tapped Dawn's arm with her file.  "Don't say anything that he'll overhear, dear."

Dawn nodded.  "Take a look at this then," she said, handing the book back to Halfrek.  "Do you think I could do this part?" she asked, pointing to a passage.

*****

"Why would Hallie agree to baby-sit Rayne?" asked Anya.

Spike shrugged, "We came to an understanding."

Anya gave him a puzzled look and then smiled.  "Of course.  Given Dawn's relationship with Giles, Hallie would be drawn to her pain and willing to stay close by for the second opportunity to grant her a vengeance wish."

Spike shrugged again.  Buffy cut in, "The hows and whys aren't important anymore.  We need to get to them now." 

"They are important," exploded Xander.  "Spike, you left Dawn with the vengeance demon who locked all of us in Buffy's house?  Granted, you earned a Get-out-of-Jail-Free card for saving Anya.  But you lost out on collecting $200 when you let Drusilla go.  _If _what you're saying is true, she may not be the one responsible for Giles' situation.  But she's still a crazed killer on a spree!  You shouldn't have let her go. We wouldn't have.   And now Halfrek's joined the game?  Go to Jail.  Go Directly to Jail."

Anya's hand rested on the car door handle.  "What are you saying Xander?  You're suggesting, with a metaphor from my favorite game mind you, that Spike should have let me get injured or killed as long as Drusilla was taken?" 

Xander stood with both his mouth and the driver's side door open, finally he mustered out, "What you heard wasn't what I meant, even if it was what I said." 

Anya rolled her eyes and dropped into the backseat, sitting behind the driver's seat with her arms crossed, planning to bore her eyes into the back of Xander's head as he drove.  Turtlelike, she poked her head out of the window.  "And why do you have a woman's slip wrapped around your hand?" She pulled her head in, not waiting for an answer.

Anya's question prompted Tara to provide a few quick ministrations.  She gave his hand a squeeze and him a gentle smile before circling around.

The rest had pooled on the other side of the car, glad for a buffer from another Anya and Xander post non-wedding interaction.  Willow climbed into the middle of the backseat and leaned in to Anya saying in a low voice, "It's my slip.  When we were looking for you, Xander burned his hand."

"Oh."

Buffy climbed into the front passenger seat and closed the door, but Spike caught it mid-slam.  Opening it back up, he leaned in.  "Not so fast Slayer.  You need to make room for one more."

"We've got a very lovely trunk in just your size," said Xander as he adjusted the mirror, trying to see Anya.

"Out of the question.  Need to be up front to give you directions, James."

Buffy bit her lip.  To her dismay the back seat of the very European compact couldn't hold a forth. And she had filled the trunk with Giles' weapons.  She was going to have to share the bucket seat with Spike.  Buffy was shaken from her reverie as Spike began climbing into her lap.  An elbow to the chest sent him tumbling to the ground.

The smirk reached to his eyes as he said, "So you'll be sitting on my lap, then."

She sat with her back to the window and Xander's ear her focal point.  She was as far out on Spike's lap as she could manage without falling off, which meant jamming her left hand against the dashboard and gripping the doorframe with her right hand.  She had _no_ idea his knees would be so bony, but no force on earth to induce her to move an iota closer.  It would lead to things it shouldn't lead to.  _Whatever else, don't make eye contact, _she told herself.

Spike casually reached up to pull the seat belt across his chest and his hand brushed her wrist.  He was pleased to feel the nearly imperceptible shiver move through her body, but it was a short-lived pleasure as she won't spare him even the slightest glance.  He had crossed an ocean to protect her, to risk his life for someone _she _loved and she would rather die than just look at him. All he wanted was for her to look at him.

As they tooled down the road, Xander looked over at her and said, "We're all tense Buffy, but you should try to relax.  Conserve your energy for later."

"Listen to the lad.  Conserve your energy." Spike deadpanned.  "For later."

Tara spoke up, trying to break the tension coming off of Buffy in waves, "Spike, uh, why don't you fill us in more on where we're going and, um, why Dawn and Olivia are waiting somewhere in London for us?"

Spike complied, sharing how Ethan had given up the name of a particular book of magic before he passed out from the blood rushing to his brain as Spike had held him by his ankles out his own balcony window.  With the book in one hand and Ethan over his shoulder, he had gone to Giles' flat.  Where they had not been.  With Dawn's help, they had found the spell Rayne had used, but it was a one way spell.  As Dawn read the criteria for a more complex spell that that included an exit plan, Olivia had identified a place in London that would fit the bill.  Since everyone and everything was in London, he decided that they should get on the road and figure out the details on the way.

During the narrative, he occasionally stopped to direct Xander.  Often he leaned in toward Buffy as he pointed out a turn, within a hairsbreadth of touching her.  Close enough that she couldn't ignore the smell of soap and ash and leather.  After the fourth left turn, Buffy was ready snap.  Before she did, Spike said, "Here we are, Cannon Street, former home of St. Swithin's Church."

A pair of headlight flooded Olivia's car.  "Spike must have found them!" Dawn said gleefully, jumping out of the car.

"Dawn, wait," Olivia called after her, extracating herself from the driver's seat.  She was relieved that the people emerging from the car like circus clowns were indeed Spike and Giles' former charges.

Dawn waved Tara and Willow over.  She set the book on the trunk of Olivia's car and they poured over it.  Spike hauled Ethan out, asking as he removed the gag, "Been behaving yourself while I was gone?"  

"If I tell you I've been a bad boy, will you spank me?" Ethan retorted.

Xander rolled his eyes.  "He couldn't do that even if he wanted to."  Ethan gave Xander a quizzical look.  Xander returned the look.  "You didn't know about the chip?  He can't hurt humans, even one as yellow-bellied as you, without the uber-migraine."

"Really?" replied Ethan.  "You mean to tell me I gave the book up for nothing but trumpery?"

"I should make proper introductions," said Xander as he turned from Ethan to Spike.   "Mr. Trickster meet the King of Tricks."  Spike's smirk caused the one of Rayne's face to slide off.

Buffy grabbed Rayne and spun him around, slamming him against the side of the car.  "I _can_ provide you with your daily allowance of hurt, however, so tell us how to get to Giles."

"Tell me what torturous action you wish to take and I'd be happy to make it happen," offered Halfrek rubbing her hands.

"Uh thanks, but I don't think that will be necessary," said Willow looking up from the book.  "We can do this without being all vegeancy."

"Well, if my services are no longer needed, I must be on my way."  Halfrek turned to Anya, "Anyanka, since you don't have father issues with this Giles, should we leave the adventuring to this group and continue our holiday?"

"Thanks for the offer Hallie, but I think it is time to end our vacation.  Just because I don't think of Giles as my daddy doesn't me he isn't important to me.  Besides, I have the most experience with hell dimensions."

"Very well.  Be careful.  You too Dawn," she said as she gave the girl a hug.  She turned toward Spike.  "Spike."  He nodded.  With a sweep of her arms, she was gone.

"That woman.  Just disappeared," noted Olivia.

"She couldn't do her job without the ability to teleport.  Vengeance is like Christmas," commented Anya "as the wish fulfiller, you're expected to be everywhere at once.  It can be quite exhausting."

"Huh.  Maybe I shouldn't have stopped believing in Santa Claus," said Dawn.  Then she nudged Willow, "Tell them what we found."

Willow tucked the book under her arm and began to explain.  "To open this particular hell dimension portal, the spell requires oolite."  Willow noticed the rows of raised eyebrows.  "It's a type of limestone.  I think Ethan somehow mixed ground up limestone into the paints."  Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Rayne.  "I'm not quite sure how he pulled off the rest of it."  She shrugged and then pointed to something in the building wall with an iron grille in front of it.  "Olivia, you knew about the London Stone?"

Olivia nodded.  "I recalled how RG had brought me here on what he claimed was an 'off-the-beaten-track sight seeing trip,' but I knew he was doing research."  They smiled with her as she said this.  Her smile disappeared and she added softly,  "The St. Swithin's London Stone is a solid block of oolite used by the Romans.  This one was probably used as a highway milestone.  The church is gone, but they've kept the stone here."

Willow picked the narrative back up, "There are three other necessary components.  A talisman, blood and someone to cast the spell."  Willow down at her hand as she ran it along the edge of the book cover.  "It calls on some pretty dark magic." 

"Willow?" asked Spike, "you're not thinking of…"

She looked up, "Me?  Oh no.  I mean, for Giles I would, but I, well I haven't done any magic in quite a while.  And this is a heavyweight spell.  'Kabloey' comes to mind if I tried it."  She then smiled at Tara.  "But there is someone…"

Tara swallowed and spoke, "I told Willow I could do the spell.  As for the talisman, usually I'd suggest a gemstone, but I don't think we have what we need handy."  

As Tara paused, Anya spoke up, pulling a chain out from under her blouse with a ring looped on it, "I, I have the engagement ring.  Would that work?"

"You've kept the ring with you?" asked a stunned Xander.

Willow looked upward as she tipped her head to the left and right.  "Hmm, if we just needed to get one person in, maybe.  And that's a huge maybe.  But we need something much bigger, more powerful."

"We also need blood," added Tara.  "Human blood is best.  It has more zest."

"Zest?" asked Xander.  "Like the soap?"

Tara blinked a couple of times.  "Um, no.  Zest," she said as she pulled her hands out her sleeves to talk, "is a measure of life spirit.  Reptiles tend to have a small amount.  On a scale of one to five, maybe a one or two.  Humans are about a five."  She looked at Buffy, "I'd guess for Slayers you could double that."  Tara and Willow exchanged a look. 

Willow fixed her eyes on Dawn, not daring to look at Buffy.  "Tara just ran a test on Dawn.  The energy of the Key is still in her.  Latent, but potent.  Not only is she a twenty-five on the zestiness scale, but she has a quality that would make a gemstone unnecessary."

"Is it dangerous?" asked Buffy.

"Well," replied Willow, picking her words carefully, "overall it would be safer since it's a perfect match between the blood and the talisman.  It really lowers the overall possibility of spell rejection.  However, it would be a bit… uncomfortable for her during the spell, but no permanent harm."  She smiled brightly.

Buffy stared at Willow.  That smile was a dead giveaway that Will hadn't told her everything.  "But?"

Willow flushed.  "But in order to exit the hell realm, Dawn would need to come with us."

"Absolutely not," said Buffy, crossing her arms.  

"But Buffy," started Dawn.

"What are the other options?" asked Buffy.

"Buffy," repeated Dawn.

Willow looked her in the eye.  "There aren't any."

"You said using Anya's ring would allow one person to enter and that my blood is pretty potent.  We'll do that.  I'll go alone."

Everyone erupted at once, arguing the pros and cons of the plans.  Spike looked at Dawn, who was still trying to catch Buffy's attention.  He set his tongue against the bottom of his front teeth and blew a sharp, piercing whistle.  They all stopped in mid-yell and looked at him.  "Let's listen to what L'il Bit has to say about this.  Buffy, she's as old as you and your pals were the first time we met.   She's read the spell and had time to think about it.  She knows what is at stake here."

Eight pairs of eyes turned toward Dawn. _This never happens,_ she thought.  _Better make it count._  "I'm well aware of the limited risk in the casting of the spell.  And none of us know what's on the other side.  And that is exactly why we all need to go.  We've got to maximize our odds that we're bringing along the skills that will save Giles."  She looked to her sister, "Buffy, I know you want to keep me in a total safe zone, but isn't working.  You _might_ be able to keep me physically safe, but it nearly killed me inside when you took my place last summer.  I don't think I could live with myself if I knew I had a second chance to make a difference and you were sent instead."

Olivia took Dawn by the hand.  "Giles speaks fondly of you, and often.  I know he would never want you to place yourself at unnecessary risk."

"But this is a necessary risk!  I know he's fond of us and wouldn't want _any _of us to risk ourselves to save him, but too bad because I love him back and there's no choice in that."  Dawn bit her lip, unable to say anything more.  She blinked back tears_.  Don't even think about it crybaby,_ she thought to herself.

Xander cleared his throat and said softly, "She's got a point there Buff."

Buffy was quiet for a moment.  "All right.  You can come along, but while we're in there you stay with me.  No touching anything.  No running off on your own.  Understood?"

Dawn clapped her hands and squealed.

"God, this is maudlin," groaned Ethan.  "This has got to be worse than where I sent Ripper.  I wish I were there.  It has to be far less torturous."

"We don't need a Vengeance Demon to grant that wish," said Buffy.  "You are most definitely going with us."

Ethan's eyes grew wide.  "Oh no I'm not."  No one even bothered to laugh at him, instead they moved smoothly into action.

Buffy turned to Willow and Tara.  "Let's make this happen before I change my mind."  Olivia then pulled Buffy aside.

Without pause, Willow started to tick off points for the plan.  "Spike, we need the grille covering the Stone removed. Anyone have a knife for drawing the blood?"  

Xander produced a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and Spike tossed him his lighter.  Xander frowned as he ran the flame under the blade, "Why do these spells always call for blood?"  Spike and Dawn looked at each other and smirked.

"What?  What'd I say?" asked Xander.

In unison they replied, "It's _always_ about the blood."

Buffy heard laughter and wondered what kind of joke Dawn, Spike and Xander could be sharing.  Then she turned her attention back to Olivia.  "I understand your desire to come along, but it's not a good idea."

"I know I'm not very familiar with this slaying daemons and whatnot, but there is strength in numbers and it's, it's…" Olivia's voice fell silent.

"It's Giles," finished Buffy.  "Here's the bottom line.  If we don't come back, someone needs to be here to try to round up new troops.  The Watcher's Council wasn't interested in providing assistance to rescue Giles.  But if they find out their only functional Slayer is MIA, they might come through,"  she sighed, "but don't hold your breath."

"Given the tales Rupert has shared, I reckon that will not be necessary.  However, if you do run into trouble, never fear, I am on the case.**"** Olivia's smile and eyes were tight, "If they know what's good for them, the Watcher's Council willnot mess with me.  I have been fighting with harpies and harridans of the art world for years, the Council is no match for me."

Willow and Xander joined the two women.  "Olivia," said Willow, "I'm not sure about the whole proximity thing, so could you drive around the block and wait at least 20 minutes before returning?"

"Certainly."

"And to be extra sure, if you've got an extra piece of tinfoil, I'd put in on your head," suggested Xander.

Olivia nodded and then stared intently at Xander. "This must be were Giles picked up a bit of that odd American sense of humor, yes?"  Xander rewarded her with a grin.

"Buffy, we're ready," called Tara.

"That's your cue," said Olivia.  "Break a leg, Buffy."

She gave Olivia a bemused smile, "Thanks."

They joined the group gathered in a half moon around the stone.  Willow and Xander moved to stand on each side of Buffy.  Anya held open the book for Tara, who was reviewing the last few lines.  She looked up and addressed them, "When I've completed the spell, the portal should just appear."

"And then what?" asked Xander.

"We go through," replied Buffy.

Tara tucked her hair behind her ears, took the knife from Xander and then furrowed her brow as she looked at Dawn, who was standing between her and the London Stone, "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Spike?" asked Tara.

Spike stepped up, the muscles on the sides of his jaw dancing as he clenched his teeth.  Buffy squinted her eyes and wondered what Spike's role in this was.  Xander and Willow took Buffy by the arm and turned her away.  Willow glanced back at the spellcasters.  In a low voice she said, "Dawn asked that you not watch. And I should keep my distance too."

"Will, if it's something I can't watch, then I'm pulling the plug," said Buffy.

"Honest Buffy, it isn't really dangerous, it's just the yuck factor's a bit high."

Xander chimed in, "Besides, at least a couple pairs of eyes should stay fixed on the annoying petty man."  Rayne made a face back and wiggled the fingers of one of his bound hands at them.

"I don't like this," said Buffy, both Xander and Willow were relieved when she didn't pull away.  

Behind them Dawn took a deep breath and then opened her mouth.  Spike grabbed her jaw in one hand and placed the thumb of his other hand against the bottoms of Dawn's front teeth.  Tara's knifed hand moved toward Dawn's open mouth.

At first all Buffy could hear was the sound of so much ragged breathing.  It was followed by Tara's gentle voice chanting something in Latin.  Then a gagging sound and Spike making oddly comforting clucking and shushing sounds as Tara's chants continued.  When the words stopped, there was the sound of someone spitting out mouthfuls of… blood.  Listening was far worse than seeing what Dawn was going through.  She shook off Xander and Willow and turned around.  Spike had stepped away and Dawn was placing her left hand flat on the front of the stone.  She reached her right hand out to Tara, who clasped both of her own hands around it.  Tara looked over her shoulder to the book and resumed chanting.  

Dawn sucked on the insides of her cheeks and looked up, trying to quell the growing nausea.  She squinted at the sky.  The lampposts grew dimmer and the stars brighter.  The sky began to rotate.  No, not rotate.  The stars were shifting, scrambling.  Which did not help the nausea.  She closed her eyes and waited for it to be over.  The chanting stopped.  Dawn opened her eyes and saw that the stone was glowing and then pulsing.  She heard Tara yell, "Now!" and Dawn moved to pull her hand away, but it wouldn't release.  She tugged some more.  "Tara, it won't let go!"  Buffy moved forward, but Spike grabbed her in a bear hug, immobilizing her arms and lifting her feet off the ground as Buffy struggled, trying to kick free.  

Maintaining contact with their right hands, Tara stepped behind Dawn and laid her hand over Dawn's hand, pushing Dawn's fingers apart.  Tara curled her fingers under the webbing of Dawn's hand until she broke the suction, pulling her hand free.  

There was a burst of brightness like Spike hadn't seen in over a century, momentarily blinding them all.  They blinked, trying to clear the dots of light dancing across their eyes.  Through the blind spots they could see the portal.  _Great, a rim of fire_, thought Spike_.  That's just what I was hoping for in a doorframe to hell._

Before they could step through, something large enough to need to duck its head stepped out.  It straightened to its full height and proceeded to stretch its neck to the left and right with several audible pops.  Then it turned to address them.

"Hi. I'm Skip."


	12. Chapter 12

"Hi. I'm Skip."

All gaped at the sight of the huge demon. Horns, wings, and skin like scaly gray armor. Scanning the group, he fixed on Buffy.

"You're Buffy Summers, right? The Slayer?"

Startled, Buffy answered," Yes, but I think I'd remember it if we'd met."

"We have mutual friends," said Skip, "but that's another story."

"I take it we were expected?"

"Well, not expected, exactly. They weren't sure you would get this far, but they thought it best that I be here if you did."

"And 'They' are...?"

"The Powers That Be. That's who I work for."

""If The Powers think they're going to stop us from going after Giles..."

"Calm down, calm down. They're not trying to stop you. Having a human cast unjustly into a Hell dimension upsets the natural order. They don't approve of it. They can't take him out themselves, but if you want to go get him, I'm here to guide you."

Buffy was taken aback. The Powers That Be offering help? This was something new. "Do you know where he is?"

"You'll have to do the searching. I can only show you where to search. And keep you safe while you're doing it. But first, how did you open the portal. It's important that I know how."

Dawn spoke up. "It was through me. I'm sorry if it ripped a hole in reality or whatever, but we were desperate. There wasn't any other way."

Skip shook his head. "Don't be silly. You're a human child. You haven't the power to do anything like that."

"I know that's what I look like, but I'm really The Key. I can open doors between dimensions."

"Yes, yes, " said Skip impatiently, "I know all about that. That's what you were. You're completely human now. A lot more than him, probably." His eyes lighted on Ethan.

"Am I being singled out?" said Ethan. "How flattering."

Skip frowned. "You think you'll like it here, don't you, sorcerer? You won't." He spoke in a tone that sent a chill through the group, and Ethan's smirk faded as he tried to hold the demon's gaze.

Skip continued. "A Hell portal can only be opened by..." He halted, then said in an amazed voice, "Anyanka? Is that you?"

Anya smiled and waved. "Hey, Skip. How's it going?"

"I don't believe this," said Xander. "Another ex-boyfriend?! Olaf the troll-god wasn't bad enough, and now this guy!"

"Stop it!" said Anya. "It wasn't like that at all!"

"So what was it like, then?"

"She introduced me to my wife."

"That's right. How is she?"

"Oh, just fine. She was just talking about you the other day, wondering why we don't see you anymore. I told her it's only natural after you get married to lose touch with your single friends."

"Yes, well, my life has changed a lot, too."

"I can see. That's a new look for you."

"Human."

"No. Blonde. It works."

"Guys. I hate to break up the nostalgia-fest," said Buffy, "but you were saying about opening the portal?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry. A Hell portal can only be opened by a power that comes from the darkest magic." He looked at Willow. "I would have said it was you. You have the power, but haven't exercised it."

"That's right," said Willow. "I-I can't. Dark magicks affect me...badly."

"They affect everyone badly, some worse than others."

Tara stepped forward. "I cast the spell. I know it was dark magic, but Dawn was right. We had no other choice."

"But there's no trace of it on you. It always leaves at least a trace." Skip gazed thoughtfully at Tara. "Was your mother a witch?"

"Yes. My grandmother, too. Why?"

"There are certain witches, rare ones, who can use the dark magicks, control them, without being affected by them. But it's more than just inheritance. It takes a purity of intention, of character, of soul, even."

Willow smiled brightly at Tara. "Sounds like you've got the right girl, " she said. Tara blushed.

Skip stiffened himself, almost as if he were about to make a formal bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Tara," he said. "Unfortunately, this creates a problem as far as the portal is concerned."

"Problem?" said Buffy. "What kind of problem?"

"Normally, when a Hell-portal is created..."

"Normally?"

"Sorry, poor choice of words. But when it happens, it's created from dark magic. So when the opening is made, it draws its energy from the Hell dimension it opens on. That way, the portal can remain open indefinitely. This portal was created with white magic, but it still draws energy from Hell. The white magic becomes corrupted, and so the portal will eventually collapse. If you don't rescue your Watcher and get back to the opening in time, you'll all be trapped here. With no escape."

Buffy didn't hesitate for an instant. "I came here to get Giles. I'm not leaving without him." She turned to the others, first freezing Ethan with a threatening look. One by one, they nodded agreement. Finally, she reached Spike.

He shrugged. "Always figured I'd end up somewhere like this anyway. Might as well get a head start."

"Well," said Skip, "I definitely would like to meet your friend once you find him. Must be quite a fellow." Then to Spike, "I was a free-lancer once, too. Eventually I made a choice."

"Good for you," said Spike, sourly. "What's that got to do with me?"

"Not much, probably. But then I just work for The Powers. I don't make the decisions."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?!  Listen, demon, don't start up with me!  I told you I was willing to stay here, so..."

"Spike!"  Buffy was in no mood for quarrels.  "He's here to help us."

"No offense," said Skip. "Besides, this isn't the type of dimension a vampire would end up in anyway. Hell dimensions are all designed differently, depending on who's sent to them. The typical Hell dimension is for demons and damned souls. It concentrates on physical pain and torture." Buffy shuddered, remembering Angel's state when he returned from Hell. "Most demons are pretty simple. Pain is all they understand."

"Hey!" said Spike, "Watch who you're calling simple, mate!"

"Nothing personal. It's just that this dimension now contains a human whose soul was_ not _damned. Before any physical torment, the idea would be to make him give up, lose hope. Once a human loses hope, he accepts all the punishments given him. If he ever reaches that state, you'll never be able to get him out."

"Giles would never lose hope," said Buffy.

"Not a chance," Xander added.

"Yes, I definitely want to meet this guy. Shall we go?"

Skip made a grandiose arm sweep towards the quivering, fire rimmed oval, "Women and children first," giving the Slayer access to the portal.  Buffy looked at Dawn and when Dawn gently nodded they stepped through.

Willow watched as Buffy determinedly walked through the quivering black oval in front of them.  She was always so confident in her actions, so self-assured.  Willow envied her.  She looked at Tara standing next to her serene and composed even in uncertainty and fear. God how she loved her.  Tara looked at her just then, smiled, and took Willow's hand in hers and together they walked through the portal.

Xander, Spike, Anya and Ethan stood in an uncomfortable cluster, nerves rolling off one another in waves. Skip looked intently at the remaining supposedly heroic band and chuckled at the sometimes-subtle humor of TPTB.  "Room for one more.  Who's it gonna be?"

The motley group looked at each other and then back at Skip.  Suddenly, there was a loud crackle as a surge of fire leapt from the portal, encircled all of them and pulled them in. In a loud echo, Skip's voice resounded, "Well, dag-nabbit!  That wasn't in the briefing!"


	13. Chapter 13

"OW!" 'THAT PINCHES!' "UH!"  'GET OFF!'  "MOVE!"  'THAT'S MY LEG!'  "I CAN'T BREATHE!"  'ROLL OFF!' 

"BLOODY HELL!" Spike found himself on top of a mountain of bodies.  His head was resting on something soft until some hands roughly pushed him into an elbow.  Skip's ridges were now pressing painfully into his back and his legs were trapped beneath someone else's.  Spike tried to find a place to put his hands, found hair and a bony plate and pushed until his feet hit the floor. Turning around he witnessed the comical sight of Tara, Xander, Dawn, Skip, Buffy, Ethan, Willow and Anya all struggling to disentangle themselves from the pile.  Reaching in his duster, he found a cigarette and his lighter and settled in to watch the show.

"Well,I can't remember the last time I had so much fun."  Ethan's sarcasm bit through the quiet and bounced off the gray walls surrounding them as he gingerly stretched out his arm and flexed his hand, testing for mobility.

"Shut up."  Buffy bit out as her eyes took in their surroundings.  Grey rock walls made up the room they were in, with a doorway at each end.  She hadn't known exactly what to expect, but this seemingly innocuous stone was not what she had envisioned.

Finally standing up, tentatively feeling his horns, Skip groaned, "Oh great."

"Could you clarify?"  Buffy looked at him.

"Well.  I'm in hell.  And so are you. Is it clear now?"  Skip bounced on his knees looking like a prizefighter waiting for the bell. "Oy… my ankles are killing me."

Xander leaned against a nearby wall and lifted a foot in the air, "Hey there messenger man. How's about some explaining now?"

"I can't do much more for you. I told you the basics outside the portal.  This," Skip looked around, "particular hell isn't anything I'm familiar with.  There are details of this little trip that…weren't in THE BRIEFING!"  He shouted the last in the direction of the ceiling.

Dawn glanced up when Skip did and noticed something peculiar.  "Hey guys."  The group was now babbling amongst themselves paying her little attention.  She tried again a bit louder, "Guys!"  Still no response.  She screamed.  A high, piercing, shriek.  Everyone looked at her.  She shrugged, "Sorry, but, you weren't listening… look," she pointed at the ceiling, or where the ceiling should have been.

The stone walls stretched high, at least 4-5 people high, and at the top, in place of more stone or a ceiling was, nothing.  A vast upness.  Like looking up from the bottom of a bottomless well.  

"That doesn't look promising. Has anyone seen my shoe?"  Anya resumed scouring the floor for her missing shoe, walking with a stumping gait.

Buffy did a quick headcount and found that everyone who had been near the portal before she and Dawn entered had ended up in the stone room.  Willow and Tara were holding hands, Skip was standing with his arms crossed, Spike was perched on a small ledge smoking, Ethan was standing near one of the doorways with a furtive look on his face, Anya was still questing for her shoe, Xander was watching every move Anya made, and there was Dawn, standing close behind her.

"We need to get moving," Buffy looked towards both archways and then at Skip, "Which way?"

"Please don't look to me for your answers.  I am supposed to be ambiguous, even if I know something. However, I know nothing; never been to this particular hell before.  This is your adventure, not mine, Goldilocks."

Buffy cringed visibly while Spike smirked in the corner as Skip unwittingly called her by the name she had come to detest.  Having finally located her shoe, Anya made her way back to the group.

"What's the matter B? Can't function without your Watcher?"  Buffy whirled around at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice.  There she was, vivid and mocking as ever.  Gum snapping, hands on her leather-clad hips, whorish lips twisted into a derisive smile.  Faith taunted her again, "You and your precious Scoobies seem to be lost."

"You're not real.  You're locked up behind bars where you belong." Buffy tried to sound convincing. "You are not here."

"You sure about that B?  How's this," Faith sprang forward and hammered a swift blow to Buffy's midsection then landed just behind her, "for reality?"

Buffy doubled over at the abrupt loss of breath, and surprise from the punch. She turned to face Faith and found the cavern empty… except for the two of them.

*****

Skip had closed his eyes in concentration to reach a particularly bothersome back plate that had suffered a dent during the people pile-up. Exhaling in relief he opened them again and found the cavern deserted save the blonde witch standing next to him, open-mouthed, eyes focused on something in front of her.  He followed her gaze, "Great googly-moogly."

*****

Somehow, this hell was worse than he had imagined.  One minute he was watching Anya pull her shoe on and the next Xander found himself standing on a stage in front of an endless audience.  Xander heard a resounding baritone voice, "Welcome to **Everything you Learned in College**!" The crowd erupted into applause and whistles. Blinking, Xander tried to focus on the voice, but all he could see was the immense amount of people sitting in front of him.  "Joining us today is Alexander Harris."  The spotlight hit Xander full in the face and he tentatively waved, while the crowed booed.  "He'll be playing for the lives of his companions… Spike and Dawn!"  Xander heard more applause and whistles as a curtain opened in front of him revealing Spike and Dawn suspended above a frothing tank of sharks.  "For every wrong answer, Spike and Dawn get lowered 5 feet closer to the tank!" There was thunderous applause.  "For every answer Mr. Harris gets correct, his friends will rise 1 foot away from danger."  Catcalls and sounds of loud displeasure followed this announcement.  Xander began to sweat, and started shifting his weight from foot to foot.  "Here's your first question: Describe the history of the papacy from its origins to the present day; concentrate especially..."

*****

Buffy was just beginning to get her breath back when Faith twisted her hand into her hair and painfully yanked her head back. Buffy looked into Faith's glittering, slitted eyes, "You are such a spoiled bitch.  You expect help at every turn. Your Watcher, the Scoobies, even from the boys upstairs.  It's about time you understood what it's like for the rest of us."  Faith spat in her face and then delivered a ferocious strike to her chest while simultaneously hurling her knee into Buffy's back. Faith let go and Buffy collapsed to the floor.  Seizing the opportunity, Faith drove kick after kick into her torso.

*****

Anya had moved to stand next to Willow when the earth underneath them began to rumble.  Anya looked down and found that a crack had begun to make its way across the ground.  Instinctively the nearest people began to huddle together.  In an instant it had become a bottomless trench, effectively separating Willow, that detestable warlock Ethan Rayne and herself from the rest of the group. The crevasse widened and spread until the three were trapped on a singular up-thrust of rock surrounded by a vast expanse of nothing. Willow was clutching her hand desperately, eyes wide with fear while Ethan would have made a comical sight in any other situation, head waggling back and forth, searching for some way off the spire. "I've always hated hell-dimensions," Anya muttered to no one in particular.


	14. Chapter 14

"Is that...?" Tara's voice trailed off in wonder.

"The Emerald City." Skip confirmed.

"Oh." Tara breathed softly. "I guess th... that's where we need to go." She took a tentative step forward and noticed the weight of her dress.  It was no longer the cotton skirt and peasant blouse she had been wearing. It was a long, silvery iridescent gown covered with glittering stars and moons.  She held a fanciful magic wand in her hand.  "A... am I...?" She felt her head to investigate the weight settled there. It was a huge crown and her hair was curled.

"You would appear to be the good witch of the North."

Tara smiled impishly. "And you, you're…" She pointed at the object in his hand.

Skip glanced down at the long-handled axe in his hand. "Oh great." He looked up into the endless sky. "Is this some kind of a joke?" He yelled.  He received no answer. He dropped his hands to his sides with a clang, then gestured across the poppy field. "After you, good lady."

*****

"Willow, let go!" Anya shook the witch's hand off in irritation, just to find it replaced by Ethan's. She looked at him with disgust. "You are a creepy man and I'd like for you to go away." She turned to Willow. "Now what are we gong to do?"

"Why are you asking me? You're the bossy one."

"I am not bossy! I simply voice my opinions. My current point of view is that you are a witch and he is a warlock. Do something..." She glared at Ethan and yanked her hand away from him. "And stop touching me."

Ethan was a quivering mess. "I... I can't." he blubbered. "It's so far down."  His eyes were glassy and his breathing shallow.

"I think he's afraid of heights." 

"No kidding Willow!"

"There's no need to snap my head off!"

"Look, once again we are in trouble, and you're too much of a weenie to get us out."

"What do you think I could do anyway?" Willow was becoming completely exasperated. "Teleportation is way beyond me, even if I knew where to send us to. And I don't have any powders or herbs."

"You did that floaty thing with Glory."

"Floaty thing?"

"Yeah! And I've seen you levitate things."

"What, you want me to levitate us off this... this... What is this thing anyway?"

Anya wrinkled her forehead. "I'm not sure." She turned to the quivering man. "Ethan, what is this thing?"

"The heights of hell," he moaned.

*****

"Papacy, papacy..." Xander muttered word under his breath.

"Two more seconds Mr. Harris."

"Um..." Xander searched his mind frantically for something, anything.  "Catholic! All the popes have been Catholic and will continue to be..." 

"Buzz! A deafening sound filled the staged and Dawn screamed as her cage dropped five feet.

"Bugger it Harris, you bleedin' idiot!" 

The crowd cheered wildly.

"Question number two: Compare and contrast the structure of the Sumerian Ziggurat to the Egyptian Pyramid."

"Huh?"

Laughter filled the room.

"A ziggurat is a big, um, thing. And it was in, what was the name of that place again? It wasn't in Egypt, but the Pyramids are."

"Buzz!" There was more cheering from the crowd, louder this time.

Dawn screamed again. "Xander, think!"

He looked over to the cages. They were barely clearing the water now. Dawn was crouched in one corner of her cage while Spike was scanning the bars, looking for a possible means of escape. One more wrong answer and Dawn and the vampire would be in the shark tank.

"Question number three: Name Freud's three components of personality and describe the purpose they serve."

"Oh boy."

*****

Tara and Skip continued walking through the poppy field, with the demon occasionally offering a metal-covered arm to assist her over uneven parts of the landscape.

"You're very g… gallant, for a demon." She smiled at him shyly.

"And you're very intuitive for a human. How did you get hooked up with that crazy group?"

"Just lucky, I guess."

Suddenly, the land was cast with dark shadows, and an odd screeching sound came from above. Tara looked up in frightened dismay and moved closer to Skip. "Th… they look like monkeys. And they're w… wearing pants."

The winged monkeys approached in an ever-narrowing circle, finally forming a ring around the two. A nasty cackle was heard in the distance.

"I knew their mistress wouldn't be far behind." Skip commented.

The witch swooped in and landed in front of them. She lifted her head and Tara saw what had been hidden behind the brim of her pointed black hat.

"Willow?"

"I've found you." She said, "Now give me what I want."

***** 

"You are really the most abominable man!" Anya leaned over Ethan. "Stop making those whimpering noises now or she," she pointed to Willow, "will turn you into a little tadpole and I'll squish you with my three and a half inch heel."

"If you do that," he panted, "you'll never see your precious Rupert again."

"He's right, Anya." Willow reasoned with her. "Try to be patient."

"He's irrational."

"Don't you remember how you felt at Buffy's birthday party, when we were all stuck in the house?"

"With that horrible demon that cut Xander and the cute guy we brought for Buffy, and she didn't appreciate him even one little bit?"

"Yes. Remember, you were all panicky."

"And Xander calmed me down! Willow, I think I know what to do, and you don't even have to use your magic. Sit by him and hold his hand."

"OK. Are you going to hold his other hand?"

"Ew! I'm not touching him."

***** 

Buffy studied Faith as the dark-haired Slayer retreated a few steps and raised her arms in battle-stance.

"Bring it on, B.  You know the drill."

Buffy began to advance. Then, she realized...

"No." Buffy straightened, dropping her arms.

"Whattya mean, 'No'," said Faith. "Come on. This is what we do. I punch you. You beat the hell out of me. Good triumphs over evil, yadda yadda yadda, and there is much rejoicing."

"And what did that get either of us? You're in a jail cell and I'm in Hell."

Faith lowered her hands and gave Buffy a perplexed look.

"We don't do this anymore," said Buffy. "There's too much at stake to waste our time on it. So why don't you just go back where you came from."

Faith vanished. The cavern seemed empty. Then behind her Buffy heard the sound of two hands clapping.

She whirled toward the sound. Standing there, applauding was a small pasty-faced man in a garish suit and a fedora.

"Very nice, kid," he said. "I think you're catching on."

"I know you," said Buffy. "I met you at Giles' house. You're a demon."

"A balancing demon," said Whistler. "I figured you'd need my help, but looks like you've got this thing under control."

Buffy grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket. "Where are my friends?! Where's Giles?!"

"Or not. Watch the material, huh?" Buffy released her grip.

"Thanks," he said. "Your friends are fine. They have their own stuff to get through. You'll find your Watcher soon enough. But this kind of thing is easier to get into than out of. Just remember what you just told your little Slayer pal."

"What was that?" 

"There's more important things at stake than just who wins the fight."

"You mean I shouldn't fight anymore? I'm a Slayer. I have to fight. Faith was right about that."

Whistler nodded. "A Slayer always has to fight. The trick comes in knowing who to fight and when. See ya around." He tipped his hat and vanished.

*****

"Do you have an answer Mr. Harris?"

"No."

The chains holding the cages creaked and he could hear Dawn crying.  Spike was spitting out a stream of obscene language that Dawn probably didn't need to hear.

"I can't do this! I never went to college. I don't know any college stuff."

The chains stopped moving. "Your answer is correct."

The cages lifted a foot.

"I'm an idiot."

The cages lifted again.

"And a loser."

Creak 

"I'll never amount to a hill of beans and will probably end up being exactly like my father."

Creak, creak 

"Anya deserves better than me."

Creak 

"And I'm an opinionated bigot."

"The game is over Mr. Harris. You've won."

Loud booing followed the pronouncement.  The cages burst open and Spike jumped out onto a nearby platform, then reached a hand out for Dawn.

Xander stood in the same place, unsure of what to do next.

"Hey, you stupid git," Spike called down to him. "If you don't want to get trampled by the angry mob, you might want to try hurryin' your bloody arse over here!"

Xander turned. There were at least a hundred furious demons bearing down on him.

***** 

"What do you want, Willow?"

"What only you can give me."

Tara turned blankly to Skip. "Shoes? Does she want the red shoes?"

Skip shrugged.

"He doesn't have one." Willow sounded scornful.

"I beg your pardon?" Skip somehow managed to look offended despite the fact that his face was covered with plates of armor. "I am a fully equipped…"

"Tin woodsman!" Tara exclaimed.

"No, I'm a…"

"You're the woodsman, and that means that you don't have a… a heart."  She turned to Willow. "You want a heart."

"Not 'a heart', my pretty. I want your heart."

"But Willow." Tara glanced frantically around, trying to understand. Suddenly, she did. "Willow. You already have my heart."

The poppies, monkeys, Emerald City, and Willow all faded away.

***** 

Willow and Anya sat on either side of the terrified warlock. Willow grasped his hand firmly. 

"It's OK" Anya told him. "This rock is steady.  Look up and imagine you're sitting on a prairie."

"They don't have prairies in England Anya." Willow whispered.

"Excuse me! Willow, just be picky, why don't you? Just sit and... touch him. I know what I'm doing."  Anya forced her voice to be pleasant. "OK Ethan, make it a pasture.  You're sitting in a pretty green pasture and there is solid earth below you and an endless sky above."

Ethan closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. "Pasture… sky…" he chanted to himself.

"That's right, a pasture and a sky."

Willow frowned. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Shh!" Anya scolded her. "Ethan, can you see it, the sky?"

"Yes."

"And can you feel the solid ground?"

"Yes."

"Can you make it so?"

"Yes!" Ethan's hand tightened on Willow's, and she felt energy flow into him.

Suddenly the three of them were sitting in a lovely green pasture, with nothing above them, but a vivid blue sky.


	15. Chapter 15

Xander turned toward Dawn and Spike and ran as fast as he could.  The demons were right behind him, outraged at being cheated of witnessing a slaughter.  "Help me!" He yelled, thrusting his arm up in the air.  Spike leaned far over the edge and picked Xander up with one arm, depositing him on the ledge.  "Where to now?" he asked.

"I think there's a tunnel over here." Dawn pointed at a recessed area in the wall.  All three hurried inside it. Spike found a large rock and rolled it across the entrance to block the horde. Xander jammed some smaller rocks around the bottom to anchor it. Dawn looked around. "It's a cave!" she cried in dismay. "We're trapped!"

"This isn't going to hold them back for long." Spike said.

"This isn't fair!" Xander punched the wall. "I had to stand out there and humiliate myself, and now we have to die anyway."

"Why did you say those things? And why did they let us go?" Dawn asked.

Xander shoulders dropped as he looked down in defeat. "Because they were true. I've messed up everything - Anya, my life…"

"How can you think that? You just gave up part of yourself to save me."

Spike snorted. "And me too. Ain't that a kicker?"

"No." Xander said, "I just…"

"Xander, you're the bravest person I know!" Dawn told him. "You fight demons without any kind of super power and you're always around when I need you." She hugged him. "You're always there for all of us."

Xander's voice was quiet. "Thanks, Dawn."

"And besides," Spike's laconic tone broke the mood. "Seems to me that carpentry would be a nice, noble trade for a good Christian boy like you."

The rock blocking the door began to shudder as the demons outside rammed against it.

"That's not going to hold much longer." Xander observed.

Dawn sounded panicked. "What are we going to do?"

"Dawn." Spike called to the girl. "Can you hit him with a rock?"

"What?" They both asked, shocked.

"I can't do it, and I need some blood."

"You're hungry? Now?!" Xander scowled at him. "Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

"Listen nimrod. There are a couple hundred frothing demons at the door wanting some blood. I can make them think it's already gone, but you're gonna have to help me here. Now does Dawn break your nose, or are you gonna make me do it? I'll get one hell of a migraine, but believe me, it would be worth it. Or..." Spike's eyes widened at a new thought. "I could just throw you out to them. Make you the sacrificial lamb and all."

"Hit me Dawn!"

She didn't use a rock, just her fist.  It worked well enough.  Xander held his broken nose as blood pumped out through his fingers.  Spike wiped some on his hands and rubbed some on Dawn's neck and around his own mouth, then he morphed into demon face.

"Now lay down and try to look dead, both of you. Xander, you can't whimper if you're dead."

"My nose!"

"It will make you look rugged.  The birds really go for that."

Dawn and Xander arranged their bodies on the ground and Spike stood back as the rock gave way and roared.  The demons crowding into the opening jumped back.  They yelled at him in their language, and he answered back in the same.  He showed his fangs and the blood on his hands. He gestured to the bodies.  Finally, disappointed, they turned and crept away. He waited until he was sure they had gone. "You can get up now." He gestured to the opening.  "After you."

Dawn walked by him and smiled gratefully, followed by Xander.  Spike leaned in to whisper as he passed. "You know, Harris, you _are_ a nummy treat!"****

*********

The cavern was gone. Buffy found herself alone on a bare, rocky plain. The only thing on it: A huge forbidding-looking building with black walls. He's in there, thought Buffy, I can feel it. He's in there and he can't get out.

She entered. The entrance hall was enormous, with a dozen doorways leading down what looked like endless hallways.

"Giles?!"

The name echoed. No answer.

She headed down the first corridor. It led to an empty room, which led to another, and another, each as featureless as the last. Is that all it is, she thought, just a maze? How could that make him lose hope? Finally she reached an old, oaken door. It was half-opened.

She entered a room filled with old furniture and books. In the corner was a piano. The walls were covered in old photographs, and the windows looked out on a sunny garden. An English garden, she thought.

She studied the pictures. In some of them there was a man who looked like Giles, but not exactly. Besides, they were old photos, and the man looked almost as old as Giles was now, or older. Other pictures showed a little boy with tousled blond hair. Could it be...? Finally, she understood when she found a picture of the man and the boy together. They were smiling and happy. The caption under it read "Rupert and I on his 12th birthday."

Giles had told her so little about his childhood, only that he'd grown up knowing he had a duty to fulfill. Looking around the calm room, she thought about how hard it must have been for him to leave such a beautiful place, a place where he was happy and loved. But he had done it. She couldn't imagine anything stopping him from doing his duty. "Poor Giles," she said aloud, then realized with a pang that _she_ had tried to stop him when he left Sunnydale.

The next door led to a long, dingy hallway, which ended on the entrance to a small, dingy room. In one corner was an electric guitar. In another was a stack of old vinyl albums, the same ones she'd seen in Giles' collection. Against the far wall was some kind of altar. With a shudder she recognized the insignia, the same one Ethan had once tattooed on her neck: The Mark of Eyghon. This is where it had happened. Buffy remembered the look on Giles' face and the tone of his voice when he told her how he'd killed an innocent man here. She hadn't understood then. How had he lived through it? She remembered the guilt and despair that she felt when she thought she'd killed Katrina. Is that what they were trying to make him feel?

She exited hurriedly and found herself among rows of strangely familiar bookshelves. There it was, the Sunnydale High library. For a moment, she was seized with a wave of nostalgia. She could almost see them: Willow at her computer terminal, Giles in his office, Xander, Oz, and Cordelia doing research. But just as quickly, she knew it was a lie. Sunnydale High was the opening to the Hellmouth, a place of suffering and death. It was a ruin now, and deserved to be. Giles would never linger there. Neither would she.

The next door was blocked, covered with yellow police tape. She pushed it aside and walked into Giles' house. The rose petals strewn on the stairs reminded her of the horrible surprise that was left for him upstairs. How had he lived here after, she wondered. Then the answer came to her: He'd come home to find the dead body of the person he loved most in the world. He'd gone on the same way she had: Because he had to.

She had to find him! She had to tell him she understood now! The next door was the most familiar of all. It was to her own living room, but she knew she wouldn't find him there. If she couldn't make him stay, Hell couldn't do it.

The final room wasn't familiar, nor was it furnished. But it wasn't empty, either. In the corner she saw a figure, sitting motionless.


	16. Chapter 16

The trio stepped out from the shade of lone tree and stood in the middle of a dirt path, soaking it the warm sun.  For a moment ignoring the fact that regardless of the packaging, it was still hell. 

"So, now what?" asked Anya, breaking the silence.

"We find the others," said Willow.  "And then we get out of here."

"Let's start with the latter," suggested Ethan

Anya opened her mouth to give Ethan what-for when Willow caught her eye, shaking her head slightly.  Willow turned toward him, giving him her best guileless smile.  "So which way would be out, Ethan?"  

He shrugged his shoulders, "How should I know?"

Anya huffed and rolled her eyes.  "You picked out this dimension; you should have some idea of how it operates."

Rayne shook his head, trying to clear it. Then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.  "Well, if only…" he said, running his thumb and forefinger along the now imperfect crease of his pants.  Then he brushed his pant leg, looked up and sighed.  "No, I shan't indulge in what is not available."

"What is it?" Willow asked.  "Maybe we can manage it.  Together we got out of the Heights of Hell."  Her eyebrows arched in optimism.

"The blonde said you were a witch."

"My name is Anya, thank you very much."

Ethan gave her an indulging smile.  "So noted.  _Anya_ said you were a witch.  But you weren't the one to open the portal, so I am assuming you are not nearly as powerful as that mousy girl."

"Her name's Tara and I'm quite a powerful witch!" protested Willow.  Then with a tone of resignation tinged with bitterness she added, "Or at least I was until I had to give it up."

A cloud passed in front of the sun and Ethan gave her a look of understanding.  "Ah, that is a tough break.  You try so hard to burn bright, only to be outshone by someone with… Now how did that demon guide put it?  With 'a purity of intention, of character, of soul.'"  Ethan took in the pensive look on Willow's face and continued.  "Even tougher when it's someone you love.  You end up hating yourself for being jealous because true love shouldn't have any room for jealousy, should it?"

"What would you know about it?   Let's pick a direction and go," snapped Willow.

He shrugged. "Oh, I might know a little bit about loving a serious, stuttering, duty-driven talent.  Someone with such a goodness of spirit that you're haunted by the certainty that someday soon they'll see through you and leave you, not even bothering to hide their disgust."

On the horizon, clouds began to rolled and darken.  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and began to worry it.

*****

"It wasn't funny the first time."  Xander blew gently and moaned as he cradled his nose.  "Pig eating, VD, bug munching, and now punching bag. My life is complete."

"Come on now, boy. Saved your skin didn't it?" Spike's voice held tones of laughter.

Harshly, Xander bit out, "Who asked you?  Why are you here anyway? Nobody asked you, dead man." 

Spike pulled out a cigarette, lit it and gazed at Xander through exhaled smoke. "I decided that my life wasn't enough of a situation comedy.  Thought I needed a bunch of friends who just drop by and ask me to help investigate wacky adventures.  I've been sitting around asking: Why don't my demon friends demonstrate heartfelt concern for my well being when I have problems? And then it hit me, who better than the infamous Scooby Gang? I could come to your rescue here in England and then you'd all be in my debt and I'd have myself a real bunch of genuine mates." He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head daringly at Xander.

Quietly Dawn asked, "Why did you come Spike?"

Spike turned to face Dawn and found himself stilled into contemplation.  Why had he come?  Part of what he said to Xander was true, he hated being on the outside, hated being in stasis.  The other part, the part he couldn't mention, was that he loved her.  The old cliché of wanting what was worst for you: A vampire loving The Slayer.  He should just stake himself where he stood, it'd be easier.  He looked at Dawn's face; young, soft, doe-eyed, smudged with drying blood and found it impossible to lie. Softly he said, "I guess that when it comes to you and your sis, Bit, I get a little daft."

Xander made a snuffling, gurgling sound and groaned again, "Remind me not to snort when my nose is broke."

Dawn rounded on Xander and punched him again, this time in the ear.

"Ow!  What was that for?" He clutched his ear with his free hand, looking like a bloodied third-base coach.

"He only saved the woman you love and this is the thanks you give him?  Ridicule and spite?  You're better than that Alexander Harris."

Xander's eyes widened at her in disbelief.  This enraged woman standing before him, hands on hips, fire in her eyes was not the whiny teen he knew as Dawn Summers.  He looked to Spike, who looked as shocked as he felt, and back to Dawn's angry face.

"I… I… I just… he's Spike."  As if that was all the explanation necessary.

Enunciating each word she spoke with vigor, "Not good enough Xander.  He took care of me when Buffy died, and he helped watch over Sunnydale before you brought her back. He stopped her from dancing herself to a cinder, and he saved Anya from Drusilla. I think at the very least a 'thank-you' and a cease-fire are in order." 

Spike and Xander looked at each other and then back at the self-possessed, adamant young woman.

"If I do, will you promise not to hit me ever again?"

*****

Dawn turned and headed for the tunnel, not bothering to see if the two walking testicles were following her.  Walking through the arch, she was surprised to find an open cavern instead of the passageway where they had been chased by the demons. More surprising was finding Tara and Skip standing in the middle of it.

Dawn ran straight for them shouting, "Tara! Tara!" and then she slammed violently backwards into the floor five feet from her goal.  Xander dashed to her side as she tried to regain her breath and shook her head to clear it of all the pretty colors.  Xander checked gingerly for obvious signs of damage while Spike hung back, surveying the situation.

Reassuring himself first, Xander whispered, "She's all right." Then while awkwardly patting her forehead he told Dawn, "You're all right." And finally, loudly, "She's all right." 

"Good," was Spike's terse reply as he cautiously approached the duo and whatever had stopped Dawn's sprint.

Tara and Skip had begun what seemed to be a serious conversation as Tara shook her head and covered her face with her hands.  Skip's shoulders visibly drooped and one large, armored arm patted her awkwardly on the back.  They were apparently oblivious of the mysterious boundary and the happenings on the other side of it.

Spike reached out to test the area where Dawn had met with resistance and found… nothing.  However, he was a bit unnerved to find that his hand and part of his forearm had disappeared.  He jerked his hand back and was relieved to see it still intact at the end of his duster.  He flexed it and found no nasty after effects.  He scanned the barrier again.  Invisible from both sides?  It was from this side anyway. He looked at the other side; Beauty and the Beast couldn't see them, so… he stepped through.  

*****

Tara was weeping quietly into her hands as Skip tried to do something, anything to get her to stop.  He really wasn't good with weeping women.  His own wife drove him to distraction when she turned on the tears… of course her tears were made of fire, so a little more hazardous and alarming than these human tears.  "It'll be much better… soon… I'm sure.  We'll catch up with everyone, and find our way out and…" Skip trailed off as he sensed someone else in the vicinity.  Looking up, he saw the vampire who had associated himself with this unlikely band of crusaders.

"What's wrong with the skirt?  Someone take her magic wand?" Spike swaggered up to the couple.

Tara's head rose suddenly and she made a few quick swipes at her eyes between sniffs. "Where did you come from?"

Pointing in the direction he came, Spike said, "Walked through the wall."

"You what?" Skip and Tara voiced their disbelief simultaneously.

"I... walked… through… the… wall." Spike emphasized each word as if speaking to three year olds.

Skip walked over to the seemingly solid stone face, and tentatively reached out to it.  His hand encountered no stone surface, just more air.  He was a bit disconcerted by the tips of his finger disappearing and jerked his hand back quickly.  "Weirdness always starts at home… damn hell dimensions."

Lighting another cigarette, Spike exhaled, "Bit and the boy are on the other side.  Dawn tried to run to you when she saw you, but encountered a blockade.  Funny thing, I went right through, and so did Skip.  Maybe you've got to be a demon…"

"But that means they're trapped over there!" Tara's voice held an edge of panic.

"No, I've got an idea.  Come here, girl."  Skip motioned for Tara to join him by the wall.

When she arrived, Skip picked her up, eliciting a quiet squeak of shock and walked through the stone with her.  Grinning, Spike followed.

*****

When Giles looked up from the corner of the chamber he'd been taking refuge in, he knew better than to react to the approaching figure. Occasionally a genuine demon would attack him, but usually they were just apparitions sent to torment him, all in the form of people he knew. He knew they were modeled from his memories, as they looked exactly as they did when he pictured them for himself. The only way he could still tell the difference was the expressions on them: Leering, mocking, laughing. _Damned unoriginal,_ he thought, but they wore him down anyway: His father, chiding him for his rebelliousness; Jenny, always at the head of all those he had been unable to save; Joyce, berating him for taking her daughter away from her; Ethan... Ethan! He was sure he was behind all this, and found himself grateful for his appearances. The anger it roused in him was the only thing that kept him from hopelessness.

This was no demon, but it wasn't the face of anyone he knew. _Strange,_ he thought, _it looks so much like... _but, no, he knew her apparition well. It was bitter, rebuking him for leaving when she needed him, telling him all that had gone wrong in his absence. No, it wasn't her. This woman was older. Yet it didn't approach him as the others did. It walked toward him slowly, tentatively. As he tried to focus, he could see she was trembling with emotion, tears streaming down her face. She was upon him now, reaching for him, and as she put her arms around him, he could feel her begin to sob. Was it possible? He pulled himself back so he could see her face, and he knew it wasn't a wish or demonic delusion.

"Buffy?"

"Giles! Giles, are you OK?" Strong arms wrapped around him, threatening to cut off his breathing but he didn't care.

"Buffy," he wheezed, "is that really you?"

"All me and only me." She released her hold on him, and saw the worry and doubt. "Wassup, doc?"

Giles studied her face, then abruptly turned away. "No, no you can't be her! You're another one of those bloody apparitions they send to torture me!"

"No, Giles it _is_ me." She grabbed his face, trying to make him look at her. "I know what they've done to you. I've been through those rooms."

He still refused to meet her gaze. That she saw those rooms, all those scenes of his loss and despair..."No, you can't have seen them," he whispered, "You couldn't understand..."

"No, _you_ don't understand," she said. "I don't mean those rooms down here, I mean the originals. I've been through those rooms, too, that is, my own version."

Giles turned to look at her. She hesitated. "That's why you left. I understand that now, too. You knew I had to go through it alone."

"But I was wrong!" he said. "We can't fight these things on our own. Look at me. I'm trapped here. I need help..."

Buffy shook her head. "Monsters, demons, hell dimensions, there's lots of things we need help with. But some stuff you can only get through by figuring it out for yourself."

"But I could have been there for you, I could have helped..."

"Maybe. But it wouldn't have been any easier."

Giles managed a faint smile, both proud and tender. "Buffy, it _is_ you, isn't it?"

Buffy flashed a grin. "Damn straight it's me. And don't go arguing with me when _I'm_ the one giving _you_ the lesson." Buffy glared down at him and spoke in a mock-British accent.  "Listen, young lady, you have a duty to do, a sacred job like none other..."  She whipped off an imaginary pair of glasses, and they both convulsed laughter, the sound Hell hates most.  "Otherwise, the next time you're sucked into Hell I might not come to get you out." She looked around the room. "Assuming we _can_ get out.  C'mon, let's find the others."

"Others?" Giles asked. "Who else is here?"

Buffy held him up as they walked down a quiet hallway. "The whole gang - Will, Xander, Tara, Spike, Anya..."  She looked a little sheepish and said quietly, "Dawn." At the look on his face, she protested, "I didn't want to but she had to come. She was the Key," Buffy placed extra emphasis on the word, "to our getting in. "Oh, and I almost forgot. The whole reason we're all here. Your _buddy _Ethan. He's here too. Somewhere."

She looked at what seemed a likely door and punched it open. It was not the right door. 


	17. Chapter 17

Ethan breezed ahead, appearing oblivious to Willow's anxiety.  "We should pick a direction.  I really have no sense of which way to go. Which way do you ladies prefer?"  

His smile made Anya's skin crawl.  She couldn't believe some unhappy lover hadn't wished him into hell long before this.  "Well, my intuition tells me we should go right."

"Then we should go left," said Willow.

"Why do you always assume I'm wrong?" demanded Anya.

Willow tried to pull herself out of her daze.  "Oh.  I mean.  Well, last time you followed your intuition didn't you think you were engaged to Giles and end up surrounded by bunnies and arguing with him?"

"Well yes, but that was due to you abusing magic.  Again."

Rayne began walking to the left.  "So why did you think you were engaged to Rupert?"

"It's a long story," said Willow, falling into step.

"Willow wanted a short cut to make everything better and used a forgetfulness spell, which not surprisingly went awry and put us all in danger.  That's why Tara left her.  See, that wasn't so long."

"Gee thanks Anya," said Willow, her voice dripped with sarcasm.  "I really wanted to share those details with him."

Ethan waved it off.  "Oh, no worries.  I have done far worse.  But I don't see why memory loss made you think you were engaged to Ripper."  He gave Anya another skin crawling smile.  "Unless there was an unconscious attraction that drew you to each other."

"Oh no," Anya denied.  "I was engaged to Xander.  He's the one I'm attracted to.  I just got confused."

"So when's the big date?"

"Big date?"  Anya looked startled.  "Giles and I are not going on any sort of date, let along a big one."

Willow looked at her curiously.  "He meant the wedding, Anya."

"Oh."

"The wedding was a couple of weeks ago," explained Will.

"Then congratulations!" he said, patting Anya on the back.  She blinked rapidly and walked faster, pulling away from them.  When they caught up with her, Ethan spoke up. "I take it the marriage didn't come to fruition?  It was Rupert, wasn't it?"

"No! It had nothing to do with him! Let go of your obsession with Rupert before I slap you!" Anya shouted.  "Xander changed his mind about wanting to marry _me_.  I tried to be what he wanted.  He just couldn't accept that I'd been a Vengeance Demon.  He'd probably burst a blood vessel if I went back to it."  
  


"Funny, I wouldn't have guessed you ladies would have so much in common.  Both trying to please your lovers," Ethan said with a sigh, "but your best is never good enough."  

"He doesn't have a point there, does he?" Willow asked.

Anya tipped her head slightly to side.  "He does.  Well, other than Xander thinks _you_ walk on water.  Which is completely unfair."

"No.  That's not… I mean… he… I… well it's different.  We're, we're childhood chummies."

"Exactly!  You're his best friend.  I wanted to be his best friend.  He was my best friend.  Is. Was.  Was!" wailed Anya.

"Ladies! You are missing the point," interjected Ethan, pausing to note the light sinking into the cloudy horizon.  His voice took on a silkiness.  "Here's a little advice."  Willow and Anya looked at him dubiously.  He smiled and held his hands up.  "Do with it what you want."  They nodded and he continued.  "Just be yourselves.  Follow your desires and do what feels good.  Let your relationships spring from that.  Trust me, it's so much easier.  Besides, if they can't love all of you, do they really love you at all?  You," he said, pointing at Anya.  "If you want to return to vengeance work, do it."

"Well, D'Hoffryn was very supportive of my choices both before and after my career ended."

"And you," he said, pointing at Willow.  "If you want to do magic, do it.  It's nearly criminal to keep such a gift hidden under a bushel."  He smiled conspiratorially at her.  "Besides, it's heady, is it not?"  She nodded and her fingers twitched involuntarily.  She clasped them together, trying to keep control.  "Now there is this nice, little locator spell I know.  And if you did it, I bet we could find the portal, your little friends and," he sighed. "Ripper too."

"So if it's a nice spell that means it's white magic, right?"

"Right and so small that if you didn't like the feel of it, you wouldn't need to proceed any further."

"And a tinsy tiny spell that would help out Giles, that would be not so bad, right?"

"No!" said Anya.

"What was that?" asked Ethan, snapping his head around.

"No.  He's doing this purposely, Willow.  He's preying on our weaknesses.  Remember what Skip told us?"

Ethan protested, "I don't know what you're talking about.  I have nothing but our best interests at heart."

"Your best interests, maybe," said Willow.  She wagged her finger at him.  "You really are a bad, bad man." 

"And we're not listening to you anymore," said Anya.  She linked arms with Willow.

"Yeah," agreed Willow as she gave Anya's arm a squeeze. "What made you realize that he was up to something?"

"I remembered what Olivia told me the other day about pain and life and growth and vengeance," she replied as they stepped off the path into the grass

Ethan looked at the women and frowned.  "Oh, bother." 

*****

Giles peered at the menacing shapes approaching. "Actually," he muttered, thinking of what he had just been through, "this is better. Not good, not good at all, but much, much better." He glanced around the room, looking for weapons, and moved toward the torches burning on the wall.

The light didn't help.  There were four demons in the room and more were forming on the slimy walls.  The demons were humanoid, with oozy patches of hair in rather grotesque spots.

Giles reached for a torch and pulled it from its sconce.  A demon came up on his left side -- he swung at the fiend, but it blocked with its hand and Giles' fist sunk into the demon's palm with a wet splat.  It punched Giles in the shoulder, knocking loose the torch and it skittered over the rough stone floor.

The other three demons were spread out in front of Buffy.  One grabbed her left arm, another her right.  They pulled and she winced from the pain. They pulled again and the third monster extended its long black claws, pushed its arm forward, slowly reaching toward her heart.

*****

Skip was fascinated but a little annoyed with Spike.  He saw so much of himself in the leather-clad demon.  He couldn't help laughing to himself about how he used to "dress cool" and the smoking.  Well, if he were honest, the chain-smoking.  Falling for his wife put an end to all that.  Skip took another deep breath.  This one smelled like his wife.

Tara was too polite to mention that Skip was sniffing her.  It made her a little uneasy but for some reason the uneasy was fleeting.  She drew comfort from Skip, she wasn't sure why.  He was a demon, he hinted that he had a checkered past but still she felt... safe.  There was a voice in her head that said that he would hold this dimension up and shake it before any harm came to them.  Another voice from deeper inside told her that she would have to command him to do that before he would.  "Command."  There was that fleeting unease again; maybe it wasn't the deep breathing from the tall well-muscled demon. She tried not to think how close to a Princess and Knight the casting of herself as Glenda the Good Witch and Skip's role as the Tin Woodsman had come.

Dawn clasped Tara's hand a bit more tightly.  The girl always seemed to know when she was not at the forefront of someone's thoughts.  "Where do we go from here?"__

Tara turned to look at the others.  She was surprised and frightened to find them looking at her.  Xander was the logical choice to lead them.  Wasn't he the only original member of the Scooby Gang present?  Shouldn't he be at the helm?  Why were they staring at her? 

Spike spoke up.  Letting his cigarette hand flick toward Xander, he said, "This one will claim it was because he is injured.  And he is injured, but it has more to do with his busted wedding than his busted nose."  The hand moved toward Dawn, "The Bit is the Bit.  The brass is there but she isn't really ready to take on the mantle.  Platelet still likes her knee socks better than her sister's thigh highs."   The hand complete with the glowing butt touched his own chest, "I am evil."  He said this with just a touch too much relish.  The hand moved in the direction of their new friend Skip, "That one obviously worships _you_ and is waiting for orders.  I doubt that he is here for the Librarian.  So, what's it gonna be?"

Tara knew that more often than he cared to, Spike spoke the truth.  She didn't argue.  Sighing to release the breath she had been holding, she turned to Skip.  "Any thoughts about a direction?"  Tara quaked just a little when Skip lowered his eyes and shook his head no.  She touched his shoulder and directed the question to the rest of the group, "Does anyone have any impression?  It could be anything did you see or hear anything that was out of place?  That maybe gave you the slightest bit of comfort?"  They were all shaking their heads no but Tara noticed a fleeting smile in Xander's eyes. "What is it Xander?"

His questioning look was never given a voice.  Tara stepped near to him and as she did he understood what she was asking.  When she touched him, he answered, "I just saw a bright yellow flash of sunlight when you and Skip stepped through the portal.  It was strange it seemed to come from above the entry.  It made me smile because it was the exact color of Anya's hair."  Tara smiled broadly, the warmth of her smile pulling an answering smile from Xander.  He felt the pain in his nose lessen dramatically.  Tara turned her smiling eyes toward the area above the view of the illusion she and Skip had just left.

Spike moved to stand beside her. "Right then, shall I lift you up?"

Tara said, "No… better that Skip lifts you up.  We need a demon to cross into the next dimension.  Skip will lift you up.  Then he will lift each of us up to you, then we as a group will lift Skip.  Okay?"  She said this only turning to look at them on the last word.

Sighing again, Tara placed a hand on Spike's shoulder and said, "Please be careful.  There may be dangers there."  Spike shrugged and held back the flip response.  Skip was in position and lifted Spike almost gently.  Spike reached out and was not surprised to find that he could move into a totally different reality.

*****

The new setting was dark.  Darker even than the place they were leaving.  Spike wondered at that.  Tara and Skip had been dropped into a lighted place.  He, the Bit and the boy had been dropped into a total fantasy that was laced with danger but still wasn't menacing like this.  The answers had been simple to arrive at and had been a part of them.  It was natural for Xander to doubt himself and with help from his friends realize his potential.  It was natural for Dawn to see the power that lay around her and unlock it.  It was natural for him to protect Dawn and manage to entertain himself doing it.  But this, this was a place truly of hell.  He wasn't sure he wanted Dawn here.  He was sure it wasn't his decision.  "Damn."  

He turned back the way he had come and lay down on the ground.  He moved foreword in a serpentine fashion until his upper body was in the previous reality.  He looked down at Tara.  "It is not a pretty place. We have to move quickly.  Send Xander up first.  He will be the look out while we get the lot of you up here."


	18. Chapter 18

They had begun their search for Anya.  Tara was sure that Anya was in this place.  She wasn't sure why.  Spike was right about the character of the surroundings they had been dropped into.  Why would Anya be in a place like this?  They could hear the howling, wailing really of pain and despair in the distance.  The sky was dark and encroaching.  The clouds acting like fresh blood dripping from the wounds of the intermittent slashes of lightning.  Spike had broken off a branch from one of the twisted and tortured forms that passed as trees and set it a blaze.  This lighted their way.  Xander, upon hearing Spike's theory of the illusions they had to endure had grown silent and brooded more deeply with each step. 

Dawn said, "What if Anya isn't alone?"  Xander stiffened but did not interrupt. "What if she was left here with someone else?  We aren't finding her because this isn't really a place for her.  She was just caught up in someone else's torment?"

They all thought it but Xander is the one that said, "Rayne!"

"Right, but how do we get a bead on him?  We, none of us have a connection to him.  What do we know about him?  Where would he go?  There are two distinct paths here.  One leads up and one leads down."  Spike's question hit home.

Xander spat out, "We go down."

Spike asked without the usual glib tone, "Why?"

Xander moving toward the dark and sinister plains in the distance replied, "Anya and I spent too much time making fun of the dumb blondes in horror movies always running up to get away.  She would not follow that Bastard up a mountain.  Besides, you saw the shoes she was wearing.  She's not _climbing_ anything."

*****

It took them the better part of an hour to reach the plains.  The terrain had been difficult and the wailing that had seemed at first to be part of the scenery now seemed to be coming from the shadows.  Something was out there and it was keeping pace with them.

There was no question but that they were in the right place.  By this time not only Tara felt it.  They were going to find Anya and neither the dark nor the wailing beasts were not going to stop them.  Xander was at the head of the group, followed by Tara and Dawn with Spike and Skip bringing up the rear.  When they appeared to have gotten the attention of the locals, Spike broke off more branches and made more torches.  These provided light and would function as weapons should the need arise.  The ground was flat here and there were boulders of various sizes to move around.  The odd twisted tree and disarranged bush all dotted the landscape that could be seen.  What had not occurred to any of them was that the torches they carried would be seen.

*****

That light was still moving toward them at a good and steady pace.  All this time here and nothing had attacked them.  Mainly, they had been fighting their own personal demons.  Even Ethan had had to face the fact that his preoccupation with Rupert Giles had given his life form, even purpose.  This thought darkened his mood as much as the landscape had darkened.  The less than subtle hints to this fact that Anya had repeatedly dropped on his head had actually caused him to raise his hand to the girl.  

Willow interceded and had knocked the errant Rayne to the ground. "You are never to even think of hitting her.  NOT EVER AGAIN!  The first time you do, I will destroy you."  

Ethan noticed the lightning crisscrossing the sky violently but soundlessly.  The wailing had stopped.  He looked at Willow and saw that her eyes had grown... darker.  The man smiled as he felt the promise of the magic that slipped over his skin.  He knew he was wrong to delight in the spell that had been cast against him.  He knew that he would probably go off like a Neutron bomb if he let himself think of hitting Anya. He, he… he just couldn't help it.  It made him happy to see the dark forces working.  What would Rupert say about the evil that lay at the heart of his band of merry men?  Smiling as he rubbed the sore place on his chin, Ethan stood and raised his hands in surrender, backing away from the girls.  

That was when Anya saw the approaching light was larger.  There seemed to be more of them.  Now distracted from her anger, the despair returned to Willow.  Ethan arched a brow noticing that the wailing had started again.

"Do you think they are after us?"  Anya asked, still clinging to the hope that Willow would answer no.  Instead Willow decided that they would have to fight in this dimension after all.

"Anya, I saw a good sized branch over there.  You better get it.  I think it is better if we set a trap and attack first.  I don't think we can out run them.  They may be like the heights and the mountain.  We will have to overcome them to be free."  

Anya knew Willow was right and moved to get the branch.  Willow started picking up rocks.  She found a perch at the top of one of the boulders and began stacking rocks there to use as ammunition.  She planted Anya at the top of that boulder with the branch.   She found another boulder and planted herself atop it with rocks and a large branch.  She watched Ethan cower behind a third boulder, while they waited for the lights to get closer.

*****

"Oh, GEEZ"  The first rock was let fly before Willow could get herself to change gears.  She sighed in relief when Xander ducked the rock.  Flapping her hands before her face in excitement Willow jumped down and ran toward her friends.  She and Xander hugged.  The relief they felt when they hugged each other was a like living thing.  It made Anya wince a little as she thought that Xander would never greet her like that.  Dawn was squealing in excitement and Spike reached out an arm to hug her and keep her out of the way as the lovers reunited.

Willow moved slowly toward Tara for the first two steps then ran.  Taking Tara in her arms filled Willow with a joy and happiness like none she had ever known.  Always this feeling... my love... my love.  Tara, sinking into the woman that embodied strength, courage, love, hope,  life for her, simply cried.  The taste of the salt from each of her tears alternately breaking and restoring Willow's heart.  Only then did Willow let go of the pain of her fear over Tara's disappearance.  Only then did she let go of the despair of the last months without her lover.  She slipped her hand beneath Tara's blouse to feel her skin.  The simple touch brought a shiver from the white witch that made Willow's body tremble.  "Love." She whispered into Tara's mouth still kissing her. "Love."  

Xander was left to stand looking for some glimpse of Anya.  Anya had remained hidden at the top the boulder.  She didn't want to face Xander.  It was enough to know he was all right.  She felt herself crying as she moved down to the ground.  She was careful to keep the boulder between herself and the group.  I will just maybe walk away.  He had saved Willow and now he would go save Buffy and that would be okay.  Her feet touched the ground for a millisecond as Xander lifted her in his arms and drew her to his chest.  He hugged her so tight he was crushing her.  She crushed right back.

"Anya. Dear God, Anya.  Are you all right? Please speak to me.  I am so sorry.  I was so scared.  I never want to loose you like that again.  Promise me.  PROMISE ME, you are all right.  Aww, sweetheart don't cry... I love you."  Anya lifted her head from his shoulder and placed her lips on his.  Xander shifted Anya in his arms so that he could place his left arm beneath her knees and drew her entire body to his chest without breaking their kiss.  

When he did lift his head, he looked into her eyes and she said, "Let's go find Buffy and Giles."

Willow approved of Tara's methods and employed them again.  With Ethan sitting rather uncomfortably on the ground at Spike's feet, the vampire using his head as an ashtray, Willow spoke having seen a flash of a flower like the ones on Buffy's porch.  The former witch had also heard a noise like guitar music.  She led them to the spot where this happened.  After searching the area fully, they found no way into another realm.  

They couldn't give up but they were starting to be discouraged when Ethan sat on rock at the center of the search site, "I will take no further part in this asinine adventure.  I am tired."  He fell backwards through the rock and out of that reality.  

"Oh," said Dawn, "he found it."  She smiled happily at Skip.  "Can I go first?"  

Spike, not able to contain his excitement at the prospect of finding Buffy, lifted Dawn onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and said, "No."


	19. Chapter 19

A demon with a sword swung at Buffy as another spun around, its foot aimed at her head. She stepped outside the kick and pushed the foot further around. The first demon was startled when the sword went through his ally, and was only a bit less startled when his ally's foot clocked him in the head. He dropped his sword, and Buffy grabbed it before it hit the floor. "Thanks!" she said, running it through.

With the ease of Errol Flynn wielding a tin broadsword, Buffy held the demons at bay, hewing to the left and right. Giles stood behind her, brandishing the torch at the demons that would approach from the rear. "Status quo isn't my gig, Giles," Buffy exclaimed. "We have to get out of here."

Eight or nine monsters were peeling away from the wall, and more were starting to grow.  They seemed to be everywhere.  Just then the door burst open. After a second that lasted forever, Skip and Xander walked into the room, the others right behind.  Skip took a defensive posture, but Xander launched himself at the nearest pile of slime, knocking it, and himself, to the floor.  "Slimeballs," he groaned.  "Why did it have to be slimeballs?"

Hearing the sounds of a scuffle, the others filed in.  Tara saw what was happening and whispered "Requiem" toward a knot of five demons.   There was a flash and they collapsed to the floor.

A demon straddled Giles, its leg crushing his chest, its foul breath a nauseating stench. Giles grabbed the demon's hand and pushed with all his might, but the claw slipped closer and closer to his eye.

Suddenly, there was an "oof" as the demon rolled off Giles onto its back. Giles saw a flash of Ethan as he sailed over the prostate man. Ethan tumbled over the demon, which had its wind knocked out. Ethan smiled a sly grin at Giles, then took off for the door. Giles began to follow, but the demon on the floor started to stir. As Giles thrust a nearby torch into the demon's face, he heard "Quick as can be, you can't catch mmmmm." A metallic "CLANG" cut off the last word.

Spike picked up two loose swords off the floor and handed one to Xander. "Here, Harris, try not to hurt yourself." With that, the vampire jabbed his hilt into the midsection of advancing demon, then thrust it back, jamming it through a monster behind.  Xander, whose minimal training was for weapons more modern, held the sword awkwardly with both hands and battered at the nightmares that came near. For all his clumsiness, he managed to dispatch several of the gooey threats.

"Buffy, look out." Buffy turned to see her sister jump onto the foetid back of a beast, grabbing it around the shoulders. The monster spun, trying to shake her off, but the teen dug her hands in deeper. Xander spun, raising his sword high overhead and brained the hideous creature with the flat of the blade. As it crumpled to the floor, Dawn kicked and kicked and kicked it until it was quite dead.

A claw ripped through Anya's sleeve. A thin line of blood seeped into the fabric. "Damn," she shouted. Her fist pounded into the demon's chest. "That blouse..." Her knee drove into its falling chin.  "Cost me $80!" Her arm arched out and the demon clutched at its unexpectedly empty chest cavity.

Light sputtered from the torches as the battle raged across the room.  Claws were raised, fists flew, and the clang of sword on sword rang through the chamber.  There was a flash of silver as a sword flew into a wall and clattered on the floor.  The lower part of a demon's hand was still attached.  Before it could even register shock, Buffy bisected it at the waist.

The last demon oozed back into the wall. "This way," Skip called, "and hurry."   He rounded the corner and stopped short. There was a pile-up as the others skidded to a stop. "Oh, bloody hell," said Spike. "It's that damned wanker."

Quentin Travers stood on the far side of the portal muttering.  He moved his fingers in small, almost intimate gestures.  The edge of the portal flamed in unnatural combinations of pinks and purples.  Travers turned to look at the approaching group. To his customary air of smug superiority was added a touch of bitter contempt.

"Well, well, Miss Summers, mission accomplished, eh? I'm impressed. I wouldn't have thought it possible. Not that it makes any difference now. None of you are leaving."

"You knew all about this, didn't you," said an incredulous Buffy. "You knew all about it from the start. That's why you wouldn't help us."

"The Council keeps close track of all disturbances in this reality. We knew something unnatural had occurred, and when you arrived at my office with your demands, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. Especially knowing that Ethan Rayne was on the loose. Where is he, by the way? Lose him somewhere down there?"

"He knew about Ethan, too," said Xander. "Hell, he probably arranged for his escape in the first place!"

"That's quite an accusation, young man," said Travers. "And very difficult to prove. Let's just say that I knew where he was being held, and let it be known that the Council wouldn't be concerned if he escaped. Not that Rayne knew about that. He thinks he got away on his own. Not as bright as he thinks he is. And far too untrustworthy for The Council to work with."

Giles glared at Travers, unable to hide his revulsion. "That's what this is all about, isn't it, Quentin? Who The Council, or at least you, want to work with. You knew Ethan would come after me, and Buffy. You figured you'd use him to get rid of us, all the while keeping your hands nice and clean."

"Damned right!" said Quentin, the bitter contempt now overriding any other emotion. "Who are you to defy me the way you do?! And you," he cried, turning to Buffy, "who are you to say that you'll ALLOW The Council to be part of YOUR operations?! Slayers are replaceable, and you are about to be replaced. If the one in prison isn't properly grateful for our securing her release, she can be disposed of as well. The Council is where the power lies, not you."

"Not exactly." Skip stepped forward, still brandishing the sword he'd taken from one of the Hell demons. "The Council holds its power in trust from The Powers That Be. It's not for you to decide who The Slayer should be, or to cast anyone unjustly into Hell." He looked grimly at Travers. "They're going to take a very dim view of this."

Quentin sneered. "If they do, then let them take some action for once."

Quentin resumed the spell. The exit started shrinking. Suddenly, a thick arrow thwacked down less than a yard from his feet. The flame it carried spurted onto the dry grass and ringed around Quentin in a heartbeat. Quickly, he jumped the only way open to him -- into the portal.

The passage cleared, the gang headed for the exit. "Step aside, Quentin," said Buffy. "You can stay here, or come with us. Either way, you've lost."

"NO!" cried Quentin, and furiously flew at her. But before she could react, Skip lunged forward, running his sword through Travers in a single stroke, then just as quickly pulling it out. Travers fell forward, dead.

A dark hand thrust through the portal. Olivia helped Buffy through the portal, which was now not much larger than the width of Buffy's shoulders.  Together, they pulled out the others, Skip pushing from the other direction.  As Dawn, the last before Skip, started through, the ring shrank to encircle her waist.  Xander grabbed her arm below Olivia and Giles grabbed below Buffy.  The two witches held hands and focused on not letting the portal collapse further.  With a mighty collective grunt, there was a short loud "POP" and Dawn was free.  Skip shouted, "I'll find my own way out," as the ring pulsed once more and vanished.

At Olivia's feet was an unloaded crossbow.  "Nobody hurts my boyfriend!" Olivia explained. "As I was leaving, I saw Travers approaching.  It seemed odd that he would be here, after claiming that he knew nothing about this.  So I got the crossbow that RG," she smiled at Giles, "always hides in the trunk."

"How did you learn to use it?" Giles asked.

"How do you think?  By watching you."

Dawn looked back at where the portal had been.  She was startled to see Skip standing in its place. He shrugged and smiled, "I told you I'd find my own way out."

She shuddered as she thought how narrow their escape had been, and then asked him, "Can you just kill people like that?"

Skip shrugged.  "Oh yeah. It's all part of working for The Powers. You have free license to do whatever needs doing."

"Kinda like James Bond." Xander offered.

Skip considered this. "Sure. Well, Connery anyway. I don't mind Brosnan, but those guys in-between, what were they thinking?!"


	20. End

The drive back to Giles' flat was oddly silent. Xander drove the rental car, Anya sitting uncomplainingly next to him, while Tara and Willow shared the back seat with perfect speechless contentment. In the other car, Buffy noticed Olivia giving Giles an occasional worried glance as she drove. Buffy wondered if he would say anything, too, but still felt strangely peaceful. She hadn't even minded when Spike piled into the back seat between her and Dawn. She was even faintly amused when Dawn dozed off with her head on his shoulder. 

When they reached Bath, they stormed the kitchen for food. "Strange how almost getting killed by demons and the threat of being trapped in Hell forever can cause you to forget about meals," said Xander.  As they sorted through the half-filled cartons of leftovers, Buffy realized Giles hadn't joined them. She left the others to their scavenging, and found him and Olivia upstairs.

"I've been afraid." Olivia turned to face Giles. "Those… things… you deal with, they're hard to believe in, they shake me to my core. It's been easier to _not_ believe. But RG, after seeing what your friends would do for you -- the kind of man who could inspire that kind of loyalty, that's the man I want to spend my life with. With you, for you, I could believe. With you, for you, I want to believe."

She brought her face up to meet his coming down in a long, tender kiss. Buffy discreetly cleared her throat. Giles looked up, noticeably irritated.

"Must you always walk in at these moments?"

"Sorry. But on the plus side, I don't think it's nearly so icky anymore."

Giles began to respond, but Olivia gave him a nudge, smiling at Buffy. The Slayer grinned in return.

Giles sighed. "Was there something you wanted?"

"You think he made it out?"

"What?  Who made it out?"

"Ethan," said Buffy. "Do you think he got out before the portal closed?"

"Oh," he said, with a dry look. "I expect he did. Ethan always finds a way to escape. Even if he didn't, he'll figure some way out. I can see him now, negotiating with whatever Hell god rules that dimension, promising him a mutually advantageous deal."

*****

The kitchen was mostly silent as the hungry group devoured whatever they could find.  Dawn noticed Spike frowning into a square white carton.

"Hey, what's wrong? Is that spoiled?"

"Worse. It's bland." He made a disgusted scowl and glanced around to see what the others were eating.  "Don't they make anything spicy in this sodding country?"

"Um, Spike," Dawn looked at him skeptically. "You're _from _England."

"Was." He clarified, tossing the half-filled carton into the sink. "You know, I didn't get a taste for the tangy stuff until I started eating Californians."

Dawn moved away and tried to look put off by his words, but couldn't help laughing once she turned away.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you," Anya spoke up between swallows, "but I'm ready to get out of this place. It is very wet and dreary, and there are far too many strange people here. And Spike's right. The food is terrible."

Xander threw an arm around her shoulder, then lifted his eyebrows, somewhat surprised when she didn't shrug him away. "Ah yes, strange people. We never meet those in Sunnydale."

"Aw, Xander." Anya eyed him compassionately. "You're starting to get two little beady black eyes.  They're so cute!"

Willow wrinkled her forehead. "Actually, I think we've met all these strange people in Sunnydale!"

Tara smiled at her shyly. "You're right honey."

Willow moved over to the sweet witch. "Tara," she reached out to gently take hold of her hands. "What we went through in Hell, well it was so hard."  Tara nodded her understanding. "I didn't know if any of us would get out of there, or if I'd ever even see you again."

"I know." Tara told Willow, squeezing her hands.

"It… it's just that, even though I knew we could die, I didn't want to use my magic and risk losing you forever, even if there was only a tiny chance that we could make it." Willow let go of Tara's hands and slid her arms around her lover's waist. "I love you, and I don't want to spend anymore time apart from each other.  We never really know how much time we have left."

Tara blinked back the tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around Willow. "I love you too, Sweetie, and as far as I'm concerned, you proved yourself out there today. I trust you and I don't want to be separated from you either."  They melted into a deep kiss as the others in the room discreetly slipped away.

***** 

Buffy Giles and Olivia moved down the staircase and into the living room to find Xander and Anya sitting on the settee while Spike flipped though Giles' record collection.  Dawn kept taking peeks into the kitchen and emitting small squeals.  

"Where are Willow and Tara?" Giles asked.

"They're in the kitchen." Anya informed him. "Engaged in heavy kissing and very likely mild petting."

"Oh." He removed his glasses. "I see. Well then, they've mended fences."

"There are no fences," Anya said, "but apparently Willow earned some sort of reward for refusing to use her powers for the greater edification of the group."

"No An," Xander shifted slightly and groaned, touching his nose gingerly. "Ow. This is really beginning to hurt. I can't explain now."

"I can." Buffy stepped forward. "Willow chose to do the right thing, even though everyone and everything around her was pressuring her to do the wrong thing." She looked meaningfully over to Spike who had stopped browsing through the music collection to listen to her. "Sometimes doing the right thing for the right reason still hurts."

Spike acknowledged this with a quick nod, then looked down. 

Anya turned to Xander. "This is one of those things you always feel the need to educate me about, isn't it?" She didn't wait for his answer, but continued. "You want me to do the right things at the right time because you think it would be better for me."

Xander looked sad. "Yes, but I still did the wrong thing at the wrong time."

"Oh!" Anya softened. "Yes you did!"  She leaned over to kiss him, but stopped abruptly at his howl of pain. "Just wait, Xander. Once your nose is healed, if you're still reasonably handsome, I'll probably give you an opportunity to plead your case."

The opening of the kitchen door interrupted them.  Willow and Tara walked into the room with fingers entwined and lips rosy and swollen.

"Is everyone ready to go?" Willow asked. She gestured to the room she had just left. "There's an, um, clock in there, and the plane leaves in an hour."

"That's it then." Buffy rubbed her hands together. "Time to go." She started toward the door, then stopped to glance at Spike. "How will you get back?"

He shrugged. "Same way I came, most likely."

"Oh, yeah." She looked at Dawn, who shrugged her shoulders. She turned back to the vampire. "Before we go, I want to... I guess, I just want to say thanks for helping out."

Spike nodded in acceptance, then raised his brows to address the group. "Well then, I'll be off to see if there's any decent pig's blood in this burg."  He turned and, with a flap of black leather, exited through the back of the brownstone.

The rest of the group sounded their farewells and moved out the front door. Buffy was the last one out. "Goodbye Giles." Buffy leaned forward to embrace her former watcher.  She moved to hug Olivia as well. "Take care of him."

"I intend to." Olivia told her warmly.

Giles stepped to the doorway to wave them all goodbye, then softly closed the door. 

**THE END******


End file.
